Learning how to Live
by Vegetalk
Summary: Initially set in the 3 saga gap but later in the 7 years of peace and beyond, this is an attempt to tell the story of Vegeta and Bulma, trying to be authentic to their canon portrayal. Lots of exploration of Vegeta's psychology. Rated M for detailed portrayal of their sexual interaction. Hopefully not your average BV...
1. An Awkward Silence

Vegeta paused outside the kitchen, rolled his eyes and sneered. _She_ was in there. He huffed to himself, stood tall and entered the room with confidence, walking in a straight line towards the fridge.

Bulma glanced up from her papers with a mouthful of toast. She was shocked to see him, but she pretended not to care, and looked back down, ruffling the paper, taking another bite of her toast.

She heard the jars clank together in fridge as the door swung open.

He'd been avoiding her for several months now…

Vegeta wondered why she hadn't challenged his silence, but he was grateful. There were far more important things to worry about. In fact, he wondered why he was even having this thought to begin with. He reached in the fridge for the plate of cold leftover meat the family always left for him.

Bulma heard the fridge door close, and Vegeta's footsteps approach behind her. She closed her eyes and stopped chewing her toast, swallowing it quietly.

Vegeta walked past her, and when she opened her eyes again he was almost out the door…

"Vegeta…"

He stopped, closing his own eyes with a grimace and an internal sigh.

After a couple of moments he realised she either didn't know what to say or had changed her mind about whether it was worth saying. Relieved, he continued out the door.

Bulma took a deep breath and rubbed her face with both hands. She lent back in her chair and turned to look out the window.

*** A Few Days Later… ***

Vegeta threw his fist forward into the air, sweat cascading down his body as he trained under intense gravity. When all of a sudden, the machine beeped at him and began powering down. He growled, landed on the floor beside the control panel. He pressed the buttons to reset the system. Bulma had taught him how to do this as it often powered down from overuse. Most of the time, when the computer messed up, it just needed turning off and on again. Though this time, nothing. Vegeta tried several times before coming to the realization that he'd have to ask the woman for help. He rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth, pressing the button to call her, but that wasn't working either.

Bulma wiped a grease-covered hand down her overalls and reached for her cup of coffee. She stared at the machine she was working on as she took a sip, resting the other hand on her hip.

Vegeta placed his foot down loudly as he entered. He figured that was less awkward than having to initiate conversation.

She looked up. He was staring straight at her. She blinked and put her coffee down, realising what was going on.

"Has the gravi-" She began, Vegeta nodded before she could finish, "…Have you tried resetting it?" Vegeta continued to nod, faster, closing his eyes. "Even the phone has ceased working…" He grunted. It was the first time she'd heard him speak since… Her mind wandered.

"That's odd…" She said eventually, walking towards him and stuffing her hands into her pockets. He stepped aside to let her through the doorway, following her outside to the gravity room.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest as she opened up the front of the control box and had good look inside. He wanted to know how long this was going to take, but more importantly he wanted to keep interaction with her to a minimum, so he remained patient. He'd let interaction with her progress too far, and he couldn't risk her getting the wrong idea… Bulma knew full well that his avoidance was a mixture of punishment, but also a childish inability to deal with it. He was extremely private about anything not directly related to becoming stronger. She'd not seen their intimate evening together as any more than a fling, but it had clearly pushed his boundaries too far. Now, he was less sociable than ever before. Little more than a robot with one goal, he'd regressed completely.

"I can't see anything wrong…" she finally said. Vegeta quirked a brow, awaiting elaboration. "It's way simpler when you just blow it up!" She chuckled in hope he'd banter back, but when she emerged, he was already walking towards the door and she frowned. "Vegeta… The least you can do is acknowledge I'm here and sacrificing my time to help you!"

After a brief pause, he glanced over his shoulder without looking at her, "It's imperative I get back to training as soon as possible…" before leaving the gravity room.

He was right, but that was besides the point! She rolled her eyes slightly as he left and turned back to the control panel, crossing her arms in thought.

Some time later, he returned from eating to find her still working. He grunted, walking into the room and crossing his arms. "Any progress?"

"God Vegeta! You startled me…" She placed her hand on her heart and stood up from examining inside the control box. "No, not yet." Vegeta looked away from her gaze. "I'm sorry, I'm working as quickly as I can…" she said softly, turning back to the controls. "…I know how important it is to you" she began, thumbling with the wiring, "to become stronger I mean. And it's important to me, to all of us, so you can help us when the androids arrive…"

Vegeta sensed this conversation was to become more involving than he would like. It made him uncomfortable, remembering that a few months ago he'd let himself get too comfortable around her conversation and where _that_ had lead... He glanced at the back of her head and she worked. His life had transformed so drastically, so quickly. The adjusting from his life under Frieza, to a world were people – or at least this person, was aware that she was relying on him to protect them. His life was set out to rule and be depended upon as a leader, but that had been taken from him so early. Where he had found the strength to stand up to Freiza, despite failing to succeed and that honor being taken by Kakarot, was somewhat of a mystery to him. But now his life had some kind of purpose, at least. To become, no… To _prove _he was stronger than Kakarot. The impending arrival of the androids was his chance to prove himself. Bulma had enabled the insane training regime by providing the best facilities on Earth to do so. Vegeta didn't understand why she wasn't afraid of him and even challenged him at times. Or why she'd welcomed him into her home in the first place, provided for him and chosen to be intimate with him. He wasn't sure whether he liked her cocky and somewhat insane bravery, or if it insulted him. He was slowly realising there wasn't much he did understand, including himself.

An awkward silence began to fall as Bulma wondered if now was the right time to bring up something she'd been meaning to tell him.


	2. Painful Reminder

"How long is this going to take?" Vegeta finally broke the silence in a stern, calm tone.

"I don't know, Vegeta. I think I might need to consult dad, but he's away on business." She stood up and turned to him with a concerned look, he was just glaring back as he always would. "Why-why not take a break from training _just _until he gets back?" She asked, cautiously, knowing what a delicate subject that was. Vegeta let out an abrupt and patronising sigh of a laugh that implied she didn't understand him, closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, turning to leave the room.

"Vegeta! Wait, I need to… _We_, need to talk, about, about something important."

Vegeta didn't stop, so she had no choice but to blurt it out loud.

"I'm pregnant." She said blankly.

He angrily began to snap back at her, "Why would I care, wom-!" before he abruptly paused as he realised just what she was saying. His eyes flew open as he immediately turned to face her, his brows furrowed, mouth slightly agape and body posture on edge. "…Us?!" He exclaimed, somewhat a loss for words.

Bulma began to nod slowly, averting her eyes away from his intense gaze. "Yeah. Us." She replied, with shame in her voice.

Vegeta finally looked away, at the floor, his eyes flickered about in thought for a few moments before he left the room and launched from the ground, taking off with a boom, at speed. When Bulma came outside, his form was just a spec against the setting sun in the distance.

"Eugh." She couldn't help be annoyed, in spite of how predictably that went. "Why do I care?" She questioned to herself, "Why _do_ I care." She shrugged and slapped her hands against her sides in dismay, shaking her head at the sunset, and making her way inside. She was lucky enough to have a privileged life and that it didn't matter how he felt. It _shouldn't_ matter.

Against the defening sound of air intensely racing past him as he flew, Vegeta's mind was a concentrated panic of unorganized thought. Vegeta had always purposely blocked certain aspects of life from the forefront of his existence, because the truth was, he simply didn't know what to do with such thoughts and the emotions they should provoke. He was scared of them. He touched down on a rocky cliff edge staring off into the distance. His biggest concern? The permanent reminder of what had happened, a permanent distraction from his goals. And perhaps worse still, everyone would know his secret - that even _he_ succumbed to fleshly desires. He hated that. He wanted to be a perfect, objective warrior, removed from the emotional and carnal realities of being a living thing. Vegeta let out a deflated sigh, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of the cool evening air.

After sustaining what anyone else would accept were serious injuries earlier that year, when he'd accidently blown up the entire gravity room under intense training, he found himself under the care of the briefs family in a way no one had cared for him before. And during that time of weakness, _she_ had taken advantage of him. Vegeta snarled to himself at the memory, distressed by the fact that he had let it happen. His fear of letting anyone in had been confronted boldly by that insane blue-haired human, and now he'd have to deal with the repercussions. His illogical fears confirmed in his illogical mind.

As he'd lay in that bed, resting away his injuries and finally allowing his Saiyan cells to do what they do best; repair and become ever stronger, he'd awoken twice now to Bulma, that strange woman, at his bedside. This time she lent with an elbow on his bed, smiling at him as he opened a sleepy eye at her. He groaned, closing his eyes tight. How long had she been there this time? He pushed himself upright, holding his ribs for support as he did so. She sat up also, handing him a cup of water, to which he glanced at before looking back at her and accepting it, taking a sip.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, cheerfully.

"I'm fine." He snorted back.

She sat on his bed. He'd become increasingly accepting of her pushy interactions and was starting to realize they were _perhaps_ in fact harmless after all. She rested a hand on his back and smiled at him. He'd frozen and was not yet willing to gratify her with an acknowledgement just yet, but it was a world away from batting her hand away with a snarl. She wasn't sure if it was exhaustion, or perhaps that he was finally becoming more… _human_, for want of a better term.

Bulma wasn't particularly great at making other people feel good, but she'd sensed perhaps this strange, angry man needed it. There was only one thing he seemed to care about. "It's incredible you're alive." She finally said. "You're, incredibly strong." Vegeta enjoyed the acknowledgement, "of course" but wasn't about to let her know he enjoyed anything she said. "Why does this surprise you?"

"Well, it doesn't, but…" She was annoyed that he twisted everything, but tried to keep calm, "I meant more than physically. To be able to endure what you do, you must be incredibly strong in there!" She tapped his head gently, and he turned to look at her starkly. If only she knew how wrong that was. If only he knew.

"Are you scared?" She said, turning away to look out the window at the new gravity room she and her father were working on. "About the androids." Vegeta stared at her for a moment, "No." following her gaze out the window. "My biggest concern is becoming more powerful than Kakarot." She looked back to him, confused and a little sickened. "And in attaining that goal, I will become strong enough to defeat these androids with ease." Bulma couldn't help but sigh and Vegeta's gaze darted back to her. "Why is that so important?" She couldn't help but ask. "Because the title of Super Saiyan was reserved for me and he stole that glory!" He snapped, his tone turning angry. "All my life I worked towards destroying Freiza. It was all I lived for!" He suddenly felt embarrassed for divulging too much, stopping himself and raising his head tall with a staggered painful breath, in part from rage and in part from the pain of bruised ribs.

Bulma was a little shocked and intimidated by Vegeta's first true, meaningful conversation with her. She didn't want to cause him any more distress, but she was enjoying seeing this side of the private man. "At the rate you're progressing, and with our helpful facilities," she proudly added "I'm sure you'll reach that goal." She said it with a gentle smile, not really sure if she truly believed it. Vegeta's expression softened towards her and he smirked a little. She blushed and chuckled.


	3. Not Letting Go

Author Warning: Lemon.

He fascinated her, and whilst everything screamed at her in objection not to, she suddenly couldn't help herself… She lent forward quickly to lock lips with him in that moment of acceptance he'd offered. His eyes widened with shock, but to her surprise he hadn't aggressively objected. She closed her eyes and deepened the kiss, and he retracted his head a little, but not enough to break it. She twisted her body round slightly, lifting her legs from the ground onto the bed and lifted a hand to place on Vegeta's bare chest, but he grabbed her wrist tightly before she could. She then broke the kiss, and was met with a stare that wasn't so much angry, but confused. And he was still, so incredibly still, his gaze piercing through her, confused, surprised.

Bulma shrugged awkwardly, "w-what?" she tried to ask with her usual cockiness, but it came out rather nervous. "Never had a pretty girl kiss you before?" She winked at him.

Vegeta's expression failed to change. Inside, he was terrified. Terrified that any reaction he gave to the kiss, now that she'd cornered him like this, was going to show weakness. Instead he remained emotionless. Waiting to see what she'd do next.

Bulma was now confused. No objection, but no positive response either. She wanted to push on. She was never afraid he would hurt her, but she was afraid he would become so distressed he'd do something stupid like fly off into space and never return. He was so… interesting. So confusing. So, alluring? He wasn't conventionally attractive by any stretch of the imagination, but something about him stirred her interest. She realised his grip on her had lessened, and rather than pull it free, she moved it towards his face, his hand still around her wrist and perfectly able to stop her, but he did not. She gently touched his cheek, his grip on her wrist tightening again, ready to object. It was as if he couldn't make up his mind.

"What are you doing?" He said, calmly, softly. Quietly. It was almost a whisper. It was delicate.

She smiled, shrugged, and shook her head a little, "I'm not really sure." before running her thumb over his cheek, causing Vegeta to visibly shiver. He took a deep breath as if about to snap. He hated the feelings rushing through him, he'd taught himself to fear this more than anything, conflicted between natural desires and objective goals. He let out a little gasp of defeat, closing his eyes, his shoulders shrinking as he relaxed to her touch. When he opened his eyes, she was leaning in to kiss his parted lips. He didn't return the motions, but he didn't object, he just let her. And when she broke the kiss, his head moved forward and his eyes opened, as if to ask her not to stop. He blushed as she smiled back at him before reuniting the kiss, and this time, however unenthusiastically and awkwardly, he reciprocated. Slightly. His eyes closed.

Bulma's hand moved slowly down his neck, over his collar bone and to his chest. She pushed gently, and he, accepting defeat against his own inhibitions, laid back without complaint. She couldn't believe what she was doing, nor that he was letting her. Internally she asked herself the same question he had, "What _am_ I doing?", her thoughts turning to Yamcha. Things had been particularly difficult ever since Vegeta started staying at the Briefs' house, it's as if he'd predicted this… No, no. He wasn't that smart, she scuffed internally. He was just jealous – of Vegeta's strength, of his will power, of his fearlessness in battle. She had nothing to do with it.

Bulma looked to Vegeta's chest, running her fingers over some of the larger scars and crisp definition of every muscle covered by blood stained bandages. She laid her head on the pillow beside him, facing him, as he stared up at the ceiling. She then raised her knee up onto his thigh, and he tensed raising his knee in defence, with a heavy blush flushing upon his cheek. She tilted her head up at his face quizzically, before realising what the matter was. She smirked to herself and laid her head back down, moving her hand down over his abdomen. Vegeta let out a long breath and closed his eyes in response to her hand traveling south, his entire body tense and ready to stop her, his mind and body at war.

Bulma sat up suddenly. "Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?"

"I'm fine." He snapped, making stern eye contact with her. Inside he was screaming in conflict, a loss for words that described how he felt in the controlled way he wanted to express it to her. It wasn't possible. That's why he so rarely said anything at the best of times.

There it was, she thought. Vegeta's strange way of saying "don't stop". She smiled at him, and straddled him, leaning down to kiss him. He laid there, hands by his sides, whilst she held his face and passionately made out with his lips. She sat back, feeling his firm yet compressed arousal under his tight training shorts. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes tightly and his cheeks flushed red. He couldn't hide his internal turmoil anymore. Bulma lifted her top off over her head, and her wriggling made Vegeta open his eyes curiously. Her bra tantalizingly concealed her breasts, but her soft, pale skin and slim waist were revealed. She tossed her top to the side, and lent down towards him again. He shyly recessed into the bed a little. Bulma took his hand and placed it on her waist, hoping he'd explore her body, but he just froze, staring into her eyes. What was he thinking about? What was he feeling? She'd probably never know.

Vegeta looked at his rough, dark hand against her hip, and slowly moved it to follow the curve of her waist. Her skirt fanned out around her thighs and over his lower stomach. He admired her confidence, her internal strength. Was he enjoying this? He wasn't sure. But he was passed the point of no return, as far as he was concerned. She'd seen things about him, private things. She was beginning to get to know him in ways he'd never let anyone before.

Bulma arched to one side, dismounting him, fumbling to slip her panties off under her skirt. Vegeta caught a glimpse of a dampened patch on them as she dropped them off the bed. She then gently tugged at the waist of his shorts, covering her mouth with a giggle, and Vegeta, to both his own surprise and hers, arched his butt to allow her to pull them down. Bulma tried to avoid obviously looking, and couldn't help but smile, blushing a little with a light chuckle. She returned to her position, straddling him, their embarrassment once again hidden under her skirt. Their gazes met dramatically, and she lent down to burry her face in his thick neck, reaching down with her hand to align themselves, before curving her hips back and inviting him inside.

Vegeta took a deep breath in, raising his arms and, after a few moments of wondering what to do with them, placed them down on her lower back. Bulma nuzzled his neck, breathing in the heavy smell of sweat and masculinity on him that was somewhat different to other guys – maybe that's just how saiyans smell, she thought. She pulled a face to herself in reaction, it wasn't a _nice_ smell. She raised her head slightly, just enough to make eye contact with him out the corner of her gaze, and his eyes rolled to the side to meet hers. She bit her lip a little and began rocking her hips against him, his eyes closing as he let out a long staggered breath.

After some time, he began to gently thrust back against her. His arms moved tighter around her back as he found himself starting to let go, tilting his face into her fluffy blue hair…

As he remembered that feeling, the feeling of starting to loose control, Vegeta shook his head and looked at the rocky ground beneath his feet. Moving his hands out in front of his view, he stared at his palms. He hated the realities of being a living being, fallible and susceptible to bodily desires. Ever since that day, that experience had taunted and distracted him. However much he wanted it not to be true, he'd enjoyed it. He'd thought about it, wanted it, and punished himself and her by simply avoiding contact. It was another emotional burden to the ever growing pile he had pent up over the years and letting go, letting it happen, had felt good, but he just couldn't admit its worth. "Kakarot should be my only concern right now." He said sternly into the wind, clentching his fists tightly and pounding them downwards. He raised a swirling bright aura against the dim twilight around him that pushed his feet down into the rock, causing it to crumble.


	4. Cooperation

The following morning, Bulma sat reading a magazine, sipping coffee. Her mother dusted the room around her, humming cheerfully as she always would.

"Mom" Bulma begin, dropping the magazine to her lap. "I have some news, but please don't tell anyone else...

"Of course dear!" She replied, continuing to dust.

"I'm pregnant." Said Bulma, for the second time in as many days.

Her mother turned, dropping the duster and clutching her face with a delightful smile, "oh that's wonderful dear! I'll be a grandma! I bet Yamcha is delighted!"

Bulma looked away, "well, he doesn't know, it's not his. We split up."

"Oh! Then who's?" she questioned, in a concerned yet unjudgemental tone.

"...Vegeta." Bulma looked out the window, to the gravity machine.

"Oh how wonderful!" Her mother exclaimed, coming to sit beside her and pouring herself some coffee.

Bulma turned to her with a confused and somewhat appauled expression, "wonderful? Vegeta? He's a murdering, crazy..."

"...Powerful, brave, mysterious, dedicated..." Her mother continued, her hands clasped together dreamilly.

"...stinky alien." Bulma concluded, still staring at her mother in disbelief.

"Well dear, you always have liked bad boys!" This was true, Yamcha was hardly pure. "...I think Vegeta is a whole different level, mom."

"Oh Bulma, give that man a chance, he must have been through a lot!"

Bulma looked back to the window, "I would if he'd only give me the chance."

Mrs Briefs sipped her coffee, "where is that man anyway? I've not seen him around much recently. He hasn't asked me to make him lunch in months!"

Bulma sighed, she knew exactly why, but through embarrassment, only told the portion Vegeta himself would offer as an excuse "Training... Speaking of which, the gravity room is faulty, when will dad be home?"

"Oh your father called this morning to say he wouldn't be back for another couple of days!"

"Great."

Vegeta had spent the night training in the wilderness. Without the gravity room, he had a lot of catching up to do. He needed the Briefs to provide the facilities, he needed them for food, for a place to rest, for… Company. He relied on them. The realisation filled him with rage, and after his thousandth or so one-handed, full body push up, balancing himself in perfect form, he encapsulated himself in a fiery aura, righting himself and powering up.

When his stomach growled loudly, he powered back down. He groweled back – yet another reminder that he was flesh and blood, yet something else that stood in his way of being an objective warrior. He needed to go back to Capsule Corp. It was a means to an end, he told himself, a necessary evil. His lip twitched, and he set off for "home".

Vegeta landed on the balcony of "his" room and pushed the door aside. The bed was made, it always was, a maid would do it every single day. He opened the door to the hallway quietly, peering outside. No one. Vegeta stepped out into the hall and walked down the corridor, heading for the kitchen. With no one around, Vegeta concluded it must be a weekend – he never kept up with the silly working calendar of Earth, he just knew no one was around on "weekends." He liked weekends.

Bulma turned a corner, and the two, shocked to see one another, froze for a moment. Bulma frowned, Vegeta too, "you have some nerve taking off like that, then coming back like nothing has happened!" She couldn't help get angry.

"You'll need my assistance when the androids arrive, so you'll have to tolerate me until then..." He said calmly, walking on past her. "And in return, I need the facilities here."

Vegeta, proud of his word choice, carried onward towards the kitchen. She turned to watch him, still frowning, before following him...

"Why did you take off like that?" She insisted, as they both entered the kitchen.

Eugh, he thought, you'd think she'd be more concerned with the future of Earth than her own silly emotions and pride. He tried to remain calm. "I had to get back to training." He replied, opening the fridge door.

Bulma was angry and curious to know how he felt about the news. She hated his mysteriousness, why couldn't he just answer and talk to her like a _normal _person? Stepping in front of him, she looked him dead in the eye and slammed the fridge door closed. "Why can't you see there's more to life than just training?!" She shouted.

Vegeta stared back at her, his brows furrowing. "Leave me alone, woman."

"Do you think I haven't noticed?! How you've been avoiding me?! What is your problem you jerk?!"

"I said," Vegeta began, only to be met with a slap across his cheek. He paused in response, though not a flinch. He pulled the fridge door back open, retaining eye contact with her until he reached inside the fridge to pull out some food.

Vegeta left the kitchen, and Bulma's eyes welled up slightly.

Late that night, Bulma sat on the floor of her lab, tinkering with a new machine. She was still angry, though slightly embarrassed about how much Vegeta was affecting her. Maybe it was hormonal, she wondered, which only made her more embarrassed. She sighed as she cranked a bolt tightly into place.

Vegeta watched her from the doorway. He'd been wondering the same, but it was confirming his fears that their intimacy together would change things forever, just as he was starting to feel comfortable around the family to some degree. He took a deep breath, and placed his foot down loudly to get her attention. This had to happen. They had to communicate. He needed her help to attain his goals

She glanced over her shoulder, saw him, and frowned looking back to her work "Vegeta I don't know how to fix the gravity room, Dad won't be back for a few days and-" as she reached for her toolbox, she noticed his feet standing beside her and she looked up to arms crossed, but him distantly looking across the room.

"I thought that by avoiding you, I'd be less distracted from training."

She looked up at him, shocked. She looked away after a few moments, back to her work. "It's… fine. I understand. Your training is important. You're right. Sorry." She said. Did he just apologise? Did he just remember what I'd said and come back to tell me the answer?

"For?" He asked, looking down to her.

"Getting so angry, hitting you… I don't know what came over me."

"Hn." He appreciated her bravery and rage; perhaps she was not so dissimilar to himself.

"I need a space pod…" He began, after moments of silence between them. "It would be beneficial to train somewhere away from Earth."

"Somewhere you can go crazy, huh?" She replied, smiling and turning to look at him. He nodded, and she stood up, dusting herself off. "I can arrange that for you in the morning." Vegeta nodded once more, this time in thanks.


	5. Oddly Familiar Feeling

Vegeta pulled his second glove over his hand and flexed his wrist, looking down at his chest protected by amour. It felt familiar, comfortable. He walked out onto the balcony, Bulma was in the yard and he watched as she opened a capsule, a pod appearing on the lawn in a puff of smoke.

Vegeta touched his feet down on the lawn, and Bulma took a few steps towards him. She crossed her arms for warmth in the cool morning breeze, protecting herself. "Everything is good to go, theeeere's food and other supplies. I've given you a choice of appropriate coordinates, you know what to do." She said, Vegeta nodding once in understanding.

"Good luck." She said, as he opened the hatch of the pod. Vegeta glanced back to her, hesitating, before getting inside and closing the door.

Bulma watched the pod leave the atmosphere. Who knows when she'd see him again. _if_ she'd see him again. Maybe this was it; maybe he was running away to live a life more akin to what he'd known before. It was painfully obvious he was damaged and would make the strange decision to give up the life of luxury he could have at the Briefs residence. Was the embarrassment of their sexual experience or of fathering a child, perhaps because she was human, a big enough reason to give that up? In Vegeta's strange world, probably. It kind of creeped her out too, she had to admit. Being a mother for the first time, and not just any mother, a mother to a half saiyan. The mother to Vegeta's child. What a terrifying thought. What if it was _just like him_? She felt a little sick. Maybe she'd made a terrible mistake.

Vegeta crossed his arms. He'd chosen a desolate planet with atrocious weather patterns. It was going to take around a day to get there - too much time to think. He hated time to think. "I have to become a super saiyan…I can't return a failure. I can't return until I can prove to them all that I am _the_ elite warrior. That I possess the power to destroy any adversary in my way, including Kakarot." He growled to himself. The strange irony was that no one cared either way. In fact, no one on Earth other than the Briefs (and Yamcha) had even thought about Vegeta. "No distractions. Just intense training." He closed his eyes trying to sleep and his thoughts wandered to Bulma and her news. How _did_ he feel? On the one hand, it _was_ an heir… Vegeta's lip wrinkled at his positive outlook. "No! How could I have been so stupid to let that happen – a human woman." He bared his teeth. "The kid will be nothing but a half breed, just like that pathetic child of Kakarot's. Why did I let her…" He growled, opening his eyes. "How could I have been so _weak_ to give in to my body."

The planet's gravity was heavier than Earth, it's atmosphere thick and it's weather cycles made it uninhabitable. Vegeta trained for days, short uncomfortable naps in the pod between, his rage growing ever more uncontrollable. The maddening environment and his own obsessive motivation was starting to drive him crazy.

Vegeta turned to the darkened sky to see a meteor shower beginning, his eyes widened as he looked down to his ship. The realization of how awful this desolate unforgiving place was suddenly hit him with the fear of being trapped there, never again experiencing the comparative peace of Earth.

For hours Vegeta protected the ship and fought for his life against the onslaught of meteors. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, the task became increasingly difficult to maintain. Vegeta gave every ounce of strength he could muster to fend off a gigantic heap of rock, his ki blast taking several moments that felt like an eternity to take effect. When it was finally over, Vegeta lay on the rocks his body had been tossed into from the explosion, panting, bleeding. He rolled onto his stomach, gasping for breath in the dense atmosphere, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. He'd succeeded in protecting his life and ship, but he felt defeated. How had Kakarot unlocked the legendary power? _How!? _Vegeta had wanted it, needed it, to defend himself against Freizer and it hadn't come. Perhaps it just wasn't possible for Vegeta to attain such power. Perhaps it was Kakarot's destiny. Vegeta pounded his fist against the rock, watching the blood run down his tattered gloves. He'd given up, mentally, and in doing so he couldn't go back to Earth. He suddenly didn't care. About Earth, about his training, about Kakarot… He didn't care about his own life.

Suddenly a surge of familiarity came to him, causing him to gasp and sit up on his knees. That _same_ intense feeling of _letting go_ he'd experienced with Bulma exploded through him. Vegeta screamed, his muscles tensing and expanding, an intense aura erupting around him, his hair transforming to dramatic gold, his eyes a piercing aqua. After a couple of moments, the feeling vanished, the aura dispersed and his hair returned to black. He dropped to support himself on his hands, staring at the rock beneath him in shock, panting, sweat cascading from his nose.

Bulma got up and went to her computer. She couldn't stop thinking about him – where he was, what he was doing. The pod had a tracking device, and she typed away to access the coordinates. She rolled her eyes, "I knew he'd choose the most unappealing environment." She tapped away some more, "I'm so glad I didn't offer anywhere worse…" She sighed. "Well, the craft is fine, hasn't moved since he arrived though. I hope he's not lying on a rock dead somewhere! Stupid jerk. Eugh!" She sat up abruptly, the chair sliding away from her. She hated thinking about him this much – he was stressful at the best of times. She looked down to her stomach. Was this just because she was pregnant, carrying his child, or… Because she really did care about him? Her mind fell silent.

Vegeta stood up, slowly, his legs wobbling as he looked at his bloody hands once more. He gasped, clenching his fists. He was confused – Was that it? Why now!? He struggled to muster all his energy to begin powering up, yelling into the dark, noisy world around him as the entire planet creaked and rumbled, lightning clapping across the sky overhead. Vegeta's hair flickered golden, and he closed his eyes to intensify his concentration and power, pushing with everything he had until an explosive orb formed around him. He opened his eyes and looked out at the world, silenced by the whooshing of his own power. Vegeta's shocked expression slowly turned to a smirk, followed by laughter. Motivated by success he thrust his arms down by his side, raising his aura into a swirling mass that stretched out far into space. "It's mine!" He cried, manically, "The legend is finally mine! I've done it!"


	6. Pride Restored

Bulma stretched, her toes poking out the end of the bed sheets before she pulled them back and rolled over, opening one eye at the clock. She groaned, pushing herself upright.

Stumbling over to the balcony window to part the curtains, she stretched and yawned, before noticing something. The pod. It was in the yard. Vegeta was back! She scrambled to get dressed.

She jogged outside across the lawn to the gravity room, tapping in the code that manually powered it down and released the lock. He had expected her to disturb him. Bulma covered her mouth with a slight gasp as the door opened. Vegeta stood confidently, side on, his shoulders back, chest out, his hair glowing, his eyes icy and a fiery aura pulsated around him. He seemed taller, his shoulders wider. He opened his eyes to look at her, the aura subsiding.

"You-You did it!" She quietly exclaimed. Entering the room. Vegeta smirked, closing his eyes and tilting his head away. "Of course." Something was different about him – his confidence had been restored.

He was still in his amour, tattered, covered in blood and the _smell. _Bulma halted before getting too close "Gosh… Could you not have taken a shower first?!" She held her nose. "Surely you can take a little break now you've reached your goal!" Vegeta snired, "I'm training to master the form, it's not easy controlling this much power, you know." Bulma realised this was a never ending pattern, "Cool, but can you shower, then I'll make you some breakfast, then you can get back to training?" She winked. He sighed, rolling his eyes and relaxed, letting the power leave him, transforming back to normal.

Vegeta held his tattered amour in his hands, standing naked in the bathroom. On his return journey to Earth, he'd wondered what had changed inside him. What had enabled him to finally tap into that power? On the 2 occasions he'd transformed since that first time, it had still been far from easy. He found that on top of raising his power level as far as it would go, an emotive trigger he'd rather not admit he had lurking within him sent it over the edge. Kakarot, Bulma, Freiza. So much occupied his mind. He dropped the blood stained clothing into the trash and took a shower.

Vegeta entered the kitchen, dressed in clean shorts and t-shirt. Bulma was sat at the table, with several plates arranged. She was lent on one elbow and with the other hand motioned for Vegeta to sit down. "All yours."

She seemed overly relaxed compared to the woman he'd encountered last week. Vegeta was confused, but he sat, retaining eye contact with her suspiciously and began to eat with little hesitation.

"What happened in space?" She asked. Vegeta, a mouthful of food, looked down and replied, "I trained." Bulma raised a brow at him, then sighed. It wasn't long before Vegeta had finished every plate and stood up to leave immediately. "Now where are you going?" Vegeta turned to look at her confused, was she just talking for the sake of it? "To train?" He said, an eyebrow raised at her, surprisingly playfully. Bulma stood up, and walked over to him, "Show me the transformation." Her words were said with more assertion than questioning.

Vegeta's playful expression turned to a frown "Stop wasting my time." He snapped, turning to leave, but she grabbed his arm. "Please." Vegeta looked at her hand, then up to her eyes with a look that questioned _how dare you_. Part of her was interested from a scientific standpoint, but really she just wanted to spend time with him, and this good mood of his was a rare opportunity.

They stood in the gravity room so not to attract too much attention. Bulma's apparent interest in his transformation did make him happy. He was excited to show it off, proud. But he kept his excitement concealed; he had to ensure she would never know how she made him feel, in _any_ way.

Vegeta closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, opening them to look at her standing on the other side of the room. Perhaps this was a bad idea. Perhaps her presence was too distracting… As he looked across to her, his mind involuntarily wandered to their intimate evening. Her partially undressed form, her bold initiation and the moment he lost control, stopped caring and let himself go. Vegeta was suddenly incredibly aware of her gaze on his facial expression, his brows furrowing to remove any hint of his thought pattern. He parted his stance, raising his hands into fists. He glanced over her as she placed her hands casually in her pockets, she stirred him.

Vegeta raised his power level, the room becoming a chaotic whirling, loud space. With a flash of intense light, Bulma covered her eyes with her arm, and upon uncovering them them, the transformation spread over him like a wave.

She suddenly felt intimated by Vegeta's cocky smirk as the super saiyan began walking towards her, his aura still whooshing around him then gradually dying down in in small flickering explosions as he stopped a foot or so in front of her. "Interesting?" He asked, grinning proudly. Bulma nodded, maintaining her cool "very impressive" she returned, feeding his ego before asking "What do you think about?" she said, inquisitively, her tone soft. Shit, he thought. Had his expression said too much? "You look so intense, like you're really concentrating." She continued. "I'm focusing all my energy." He replied quickly. It wasn't entirely untrue. Bulma reached for his face and he froze for a moment, though this time, after a pause, he stepped closer to her.

Maintaining the super saiyan form wasn't easy. It was draining and required concentration. Deluding himself slightly that this was in the name of resistance training and little else, Vegeta wondered how well he could cope with her as a distraction. With confidence came the willingness to give in to less objective desires. Vegeta felt more alive than he had since a young child.

She looked up to his hair, moving her hand up through the thick golden strands as closed his eyes, tilting his head towards her hand slightly. "Wow." She said softly, smiling. Vegeta's icy eyes flew open to meet with hers curiously. "What does it feel like? All that power?" She asked. Vegeta's voice turned quiet, deep and sensuous, "Intense." He muttered back, moving closer. "Like a switch has turned on and electricity is coursing through my veins." Bulma bit her lip gently, she too was experiencing that sensation, she thought. Her free hand moved over Vegeta's clothed chest, up his tense neck and cupped his cheek, pulling it towards hers to kiss. To her surprise, he returned her motions passionately, even tilting his head to the side to lock with her.

Vegeta was one of the most powerful men in the world, possibly the universe and definably _the_ most volatile, she thought to herself. And here he was, driving her crazy. She should be terrified, but instead she was curious and aroused. The rational part of her was a little worried by his manic personality change and what someone like Vegeta could do with this kind of power, but right now, all she really cared about was that he was receptive to her advances. He suddenly grabbed a hold of her arms, pulling her hands away from his face.


	7. Defense Mechanism

Author note: Firstly, I'd just like to say thank you to everyone reading along. I really appreciate the couple of comments I've recieved. They help me ensure you guys are getting what I want to communicate and where I need to divulge more detail or information in later chapters. So please, share your thoughts, criticisms and questions and I'll try to incorperate them into the story.

Hope y'all ready for some ssj sexy times. That's a lemon warning… If you're offended by lustful sex between a blue haired earth woman and a golden haired monkey man, turn back now before it's too late!

_"__In psychology,_defense mechanisms _are unconscious coping mechanisms that reduce anxiety generated by threats from unacceptable impulses.__"_

Bulma withered slightly, her legs like jelly. This was a world away from their first fragile kisses – he was taking the lead. He let go of her wrists, his hands moving to her hips and he pulled her close to him, one hand moving to the small of her back as their chests pressed tightly. Bulma held his back, opening her eyes to Vegeta's ever intense expression. His eyes were closed, but his face was full of concentration as he kissed her. His golden eyebrows and hair transformed the way he looked completely, she couldn't help but stare. She pulled back from the kiss slightly, "s-should we go somewhere more, comfortable?" Vegeta stared back for a moment before a single nod. To her surprise, he bent slightly to lift her from the ground, supporting her under her knees and back. She wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively.

Vegeta flew to her balcony swiftly, his feet gently touching down before he lowered her. She grabbed ahold of his hand, sliding the balcony door open and tugged for him to follow her inside, looking back to him reassuringly.

Vegeta wasn't completely free of his inhibitions, but the transformation had made him feel safer. He was now protected from the criticisms no one had, but that were incredibly real in his deluded perception that others had of him. The freedom to do exactly as Bulma had criticised him for not - there was more to life than just training, at least for now, for a short while. For an hour. Then back to training.

She sat on her bed, and after a brief awkwardness, she slipped off her shoes and pulled her top off over her head. Vegeta watched her, before walking over and following suit, revealing his muscular torso packed tightly into his small frame as he raised his arms up. She was used to seeing well built men, but Vegeta's build was incredible, with all the mass in his short stature of someone much taller. His tiny skeletal frame underneath not much wider and certainly no taller than her own. He made eye contact before bravely moving closer. She fell back onto her hands, propping herself up as he lifted a knee onto the edge of the bed to crawl over her. Bulma fumbled with her jeans zipper before he pulled them down and she gently kicked her legs free. She reached to the waist of his shorts around his back, pushing them slightly back, and then he removed them completely. Bulma, grabbing his huge shoulders, pulled herself up to kiss him, now only in her underware under Vegeta's naked form. He held both himself and her up with one hand pressed on the matress, the other moved to her waist, curved round her back and up to her shoulder, where he attempted to pull he bra straps down. "Oh, no, Vegeta… Like this." She reached around behind her with one hand to undo her bra. Vegeta snired at her correction threateningly, and Bulma averted her eyes from his for a moment whilst she removed her bra completely. His gaze rolled down her to watch the uncovering and when she glanced back to his face, his cheeks had flushed red. She couldn't help but smile, returning her hands to his shoulders and then around his neck.

Vegeta lowered his body down onto her, burying his face into her neck. She could feel his breath, it made her shiver. He curled his hips forward, rubbing dryly against her panties. She took in a deep breath, her grip on him tightening, spreading her legs invitingly. He arched to one side, his hand traveling down to pull them off and she wriggled in cooperation. Then he returned to where he was, his face buried deeper into her neck, tilting to sniff at her hair and press his body weight against her immersively. She could feel him throbbing, gently tapping at her, his hips increasingly pushing forward intensely. He began to thrust at her externally, gliding over her dampened arousal. She closed her eyes and gasped, clutching at his shoulder and neck, pulling his face tightly against her.

His lips hovered around her shoulder, neck and cheek, breathing firmly, eyes closed, intensely shuddering on occasion, his thrusts quivering. He eventually aligned himself and slipped inside, his shoulders rolling forwards slightly as he propped himself up on his forearms either side of her, head still hanging down, hidden in her neck. She let out a small gasp and Vegeta responded with a long, heavy sigh, some slight vocalization of a moan hiding under the sound of air escaping his lungs. He pulled back and began long, slow, thrusts. They were controlled, but wobbly under the intense sensation running through them both. Vegeta's thrusting became increasingly erratic and passionate, his breathing haphazard. Bulma clung to him tightly, raising her knees either side of him and gently squeezing, rolling her pelvis towards his ever more powerful thrusts. She couldn't help let out the occasional little moan into his ear.

Suddenly, Vegeta's hair flickered black. Alarmed, Bulma looked up to the side, but she was unable to see his expression. Her grip on him tightened caringly. He was fighting to maintain control. It happened again, though this time, his hair remained black. Vegeta growled, thrusting forward, raising an aura around them both that was gone in a clap as his hair returned to gold. She was shocked, and a little scared, but the intense feeling mounting inside of her was overwhelmingly positive. What was happening was incredible. She pushed her face tightly against the side of his, closing her eyes and squeezing him inside her. His thrusts came to a jaggered slowing of pace and depth, his breath as if he was lost for words and he let out an quiet moan that rippled through her ear as a confirmation of his immersion in the moment. In another blast of his aura, Vegeta's hair returned to it's natural black and he panted into her neck heavily.

Vegeta opened one eye, the other burried in a pillow, wearily looking at the open balcony door and the curtain blowing in the evening breeze. The sky was dark. He squinted, confused. Where was he? This wasn't his room... His eye widened as the memory returned, pushing himself upright and turning to see Bulma sprawled out on the bed beside him, drooling attractively on her pillow in deep slumber. He grunted to himself, holding his head. How long had he been here? It was morning last thing he knew... He growled, furious at himself for wasting so much time, standing up and searching for his shorts.


	8. Introductions

Bulma walked over to the crib and lent over, resting her cheek on her hand as she looked down at her son, only a couple of weeks old. She smiled exhaustedly, he was sleeping.

Vegeta's intense training had continued without any more lustful distractions. He'd been avoiding her increasingly as Bulma fell further into pregnancy, though this time, Bulma knew it was perhaps for the best. Her mood had grown ever more erratic leading up to the birth and Vegeta's mysteriousness and apparent lack of empathy would have been a traumatic burden she most definitely did better without. Any interaction they did have was respectful and void of emotion, as if neither of them had spared a thought for the intense morning they had shared. Of course, that wasn't entirely the case, but their stubborn natures prevailed.

Bulma hadn't seen Vegeta since before she went into labor. He'd just vanished, as he would on occasion, usually coinciding with some kind of event at Capsule Corp, or anything else he'd rather avoid. The second he caught wind of something; he was gone for days until he was certain it was over. For the best though, having the often stinky, power crazy, grumpy alien around when you're introducing a new device to the press wasn't ideal.

Vegeta had managed to convince himself that he cared so little about the birth of his first child, that he had genuinely managed to avoid thinking about it over the last few days. But as he returned back to Capsule Corp, deep down he _knew_ an awkwardness he'd rather not confront awaited his arrival.

Vegeta walked into the kitchen to find Mrs. Briefs. Before he had a chance to abort the mission, she turned to him "Oh Vegeta!" she exclaimed "how nice to see you!" Vegeta nodded once at her in greeting, walking to the fridge. Darn it, he grunted internally. "Have you met Trunks yet!?" Vegeta paused whilst he thought of a response… Trunks must be the name of the child, he thought. Ugh, stupid human names. Suddenly, she grabbed his hand and tugged him away from the fridge. "Oh you must come see him, he's simply gorgeous!" Vegeta's eyes widened a bit, but he could do nothing to stop that insane woman. She was worse than her daughter.

Mrs. Briefs entered the living room, where Bulma knelt on the floor with her son lying on his back on a blanket. "Look who I've found dear!" Said her mother, pulling Vegeta into the room. Bulma looked up in shock, but then she just smiled "Hey Vegeta." She said calmly, looking back down to Trunks to hold his tiny hand as he kicked and wriggled.

Vegeta didn't know what he was supposed to do. He stared at the infant and then at Bulma's contented expression for a moment. He wanted desperately to run.

Mrs. Briefs walked towards Bulma "Don't you want to hold him, Vegeta?" She asked. Bulma shot a glance at Vegeta's uncomfortable expression, squinted and then looked to her mother "Er…" She couldn't find the words to stop her from picking Trunks up and forcefully offering him into Vegeta's hands. He froze, holding the child away from him awkwardly. After a few brief moments of mutual stares between father and son, Trunks began to cry loudly. Bulma was instantly up on her feet and there to rescue them from one another, taking Trunks back into her arms and rocking him. She shot a smile in understanding at Vegeta as she turned away. "I know, I know…" She said to Trunks, "He's got a mean scary face doesn't he? Yes he does!" When she looked back again, Vegeta was gone. She was sort of relieved, for his own sake.

Luckily for Vegeta, Capsule Corp was large enough to mostly avoid that woman and the new arrival. Early one morning as Vegeta slept, that same dream that had haunted him returned, as it would most nights. Though since his super saiyan transformation almost a year ago, it had changed slightly. As Goku and the mystery super saiyan from the future stood before him, Vegeta smugly cackled and transformed to join them. The two taller saiyans looked to one another, smirking, then back to Vegeta and raising their power levels more and more and more… Vegeta's face turned to fear, "No!" He cried "I am the prince of all Saiyans! I am the strongest warrior in the universe!" He too powered up, but it was no use, their auras blinding him as he shielded his face and stepped back. He was starting to doubt himself under the mask of confidence.

Vegeta bolted upright and awake, eyes wide, panting. Then he held his head with one hand. "Who was that young super saiyan?" He growled, bringing his hand down from his face to clench a fist. "He was way too young, especially considering he came from the future, to be a survivor of Planet Vegeta. Perhaps he was lying!" He growled again, when the sound of Trunks cry echoed through Capsule Corp's long corridors. "THAT BLASTID CHILD!" Vegeta growled, throwing the covers away from him and standing up from the bed.

Bulma rocked Trunks in her arms trying to hush him, when Vegeta suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Shut that infant up, or I will kindly do it for you!" Bulma hadn't seen Vegeta this angry in a long time, she was shocked at first, but she frowned immediately and snapped back "You're not helping, Vegeta! This is what babies do, they cry!" Trunks wailed louder and Vegeta, teeth bared at them, closed his eyes and turned to leave. Bulma's face softened. What was wrong? It was as if he was reverting back again. He was so confusing. She felt sorry for him. "There, there Trunks, I don't think he means it. I hope he doesn't." She sadly looked at the doorway where he'd once stood.

Vegeta entered the gravity room as he would every morning, throwing his towel angrily to the side with an aggravated growl. "Maybe if I hadn't let myself get so distracted by that stupid woman, I'd not have this infernal problem!" He growled, throwing his fists down to raise an aura in rage. Transforming had become more difficult through his deluded preconceptions. His interactions with her had helped him, not hindered him. It was his rage, his regret and his overwhelming pride that was sending him backwards. But the further he fell, the angrier he became and the cycle just fed itself hungrily, tormenting him.


	9. Everything Changes

Vegeta stared down at Gohan giving his everything against Cell. The accumulation of thoughts and emotions tugging him every direction, draining his mental strength further into oblivion. His brief victory against android 19 was all his training efforts had amounted to. He had failed once more. And what's worse, now even Kakarot's young son Gohan was more powerful than he. He didn't understand, none of it made any sense.

Vegeta closed his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the world around him, but eventually the pressure to do something became too intense. He opened his eyes. It was time to admit defeat. If Gohan failed, no one would be able to stop Cell. The Earth and everyone on it would meet their end. Vegeta had stupidly let Cell transform and as a direct result, the future counterpart of his own flesh and blood, his own son, had been killed. Kakarot was also gone, after bravely sacrificing himself. Vegeta took a deep breath as the guilt overwhelmed him, an unfamiliar and distinctly revolting, maddening feeling. He had to give into his pride and help young Gohan in the only way he now could. He raised his hands, sending the largest blast he could form with what little energy he had left down at Cell's back, panting silently in the noisy battlefield as he watched the small distraction give Gohan the chance to put an end to Cell for good.

As the dust settled and the remaining Z fighters took off, Vegeta felt vulnerable under the Namekian's gaze, "That was brave." Piccolo said calmly. His understanding of the saiyan prince's damaged pride irritated Vegeta. He didn't want pity. "…I don't need anybody's help." He said in a stark, void tone.

Piccolo smiled and took off, following the others, leaving Vegeta alone with his thoughts. He looked down at the desolate and scarred battlefield beneath him, dust rolling through the now quiet and lonely plains. Trunks would be okay, but Kakarot was gone. Vegeta's only goal, everything he'd lived for since arriving on Earth, was gone. The dream that he would one day prove himself and rise above was now impossible and it left Vegeta hanging in limbo. "You died without fear" Vegeta clenched his fists, before relaxing them in dismay. "What does that make of me?"

Vegeta's feet touched down on his balcony at Capsule Corp. He looked up sorely at the building, then closed his eyes and lowered his head, walking forward and pushing the door aside. He looked around the quiet, still room and sighed, not knowing what to do with himself. What would you do? When everything you'd ever lived for, not just your dreams, but _everything _you knew of life itself, crumbled away as you watched helplessly? He collapsed on the bed, defeated.

Trunks touched down in the Capsule Corp yard, greeted by his young mother. Sat at the kitchen table, Trunks proceeded to fill Bulma in on the day's events… "My Gosh…. Goku's gone, forever?" Bulma questioned, tears in her eyes. She took a seat also. "I can't believe it." There were several moments of silence as her mind ran through her many happy memories with Goku. She smiled to herself and sighed, "Where's Vegeta?" she asked hesitantly, slightly concerned. "I don't know." Trunks replied, but with a sad smile, "But I know he's okay. Yamcha was just explaining that he went crazy after Cell shot me, defending my honor." Bulma looked up at him, returning the sad smile. "He's not all bad, you know. Just broken, I think. He's not sure how he should feel or behave." Trunks' smile widened, "You've already had the chance to get to know him longer than you did in my time."

Later that evening, Bulma walked down the hall leading to her room, slowing to a stop outside Vegeta empty room. She looked at the door and sighed, opening it and stepping inside. The room was dark, faintly lit by the moon and she noticed the curtains blowing by the open door… That's funny, she thought, walking over to close them. Vegeta sat up from the bed "What are you doing in here?" Bulma jumped, turning round, "Ahh! I had no idea you were here…" Vegeta's cold glare was only faintly visible in the moonlight, she reached to switch on the lamp by his bed, and he followed her with his gaze. "How long have you been here?" She questioned, taking a seat on the side of his bed, looking him over. "You've not even changed out of your armor… Do you want me to find you some clean clothes?" Vegeta looked away. "I'm fine." Bulma raised a brow, and went to the drawers anyway. He didn't know how to respond positively to anything.

"Trunks brought me up to speed on what happened today." Vegeta looked to her back, "Is he here?" he asked. "Yeah. He's going back to his time in the morning, to take care of the androids." Vegeta looked away just before she turned around, he was relieved to know Trunks had been revived okay. Bulma placed clothes in his lap. "Have you eaten since you've been back?" Vegeta didn't reply, but his stomach grumbled and Bulma smiled. "Go get changed and meet me in the kitchen, I'll fix you something to eat."

Vegeta entered the kitchen and took a seat silently, Bulma turning to place a large sandwich down in front of him before taking a seat herself. She watched Vegeta lethargically begin to eat. It was distressing to see him like this. Despite how little she felt like she knew him, she'd seen so many different sides to him already. He was manic-depressive, that was the only way to describe it. His perceived successes and failures ruled his life completely. He'd never be content, he couldn't be. Either he was desperately pushing to grow more powerful or he was recovering from the realization that he was not powerful enough. It was a continuous cycle. Bulma smiled to him, trying to lighten the mood, unaware of the extent of Vegeta's low thoughts, "What now? Going to ease off training a little?" she joked, winking to him as he looked up at his lost expression, "Yes." Bulma's face turned to shock. "W-what? Really?" She should've been happy but, this was Vegeta, something wasn't right. He nodded in response to her question. "Kakarot is gone." He looked back to his food. "I have no reason to train now."

Bulma was a little surprised to learn he was so bothered by Goku's death. She expected indifference, maybe even… Misguided joy? She thought this sadness was born of Vegeta's failure to be the one to destroy Cell, nothing more. She was wrong, and past the confusion she felt guilt. There was a lot more to him than she ever imagined and he was complicated enough as it was.

"All… All I wanted was to one day be certain in my heart that I was stronger than he. Now it's an impossible goal. I'll never know, never have the chance to prove myself." Vegeta, hanging his head shamefully in defeat, wondered why he was divulging this much, even though he was still holding back – this still wasn't the whole picture. He stood, pushing his chair away.

Bulma was too surprised by his emotive expression to stop him leaving. She just stared as he left the room.


	10. Realisation

Everyone gathered at Capsule Corp to see Trunks on his way. They had him to thank for their lives. After saying his goodbyes to everyone, he glanced over to his father. Swamped in his own self-depreciation, Vegeta could at least feel proud of his son, for his strength and courage. He offered a sign of peace. A simple, unemotive farewell perhaps, but Trunks understood it's depth, as did the onlooking Bulma, who found herself fighting to stifle back a tear. Trunks flashed a knowing smile back at his father's ever-stern gaze, honored to have had the chance to meet the proud saiyan prince. He'd learnt things his mother in the future had never had the chance to know. Unconditionally loving someone whose intentions often seem far from good can be troubling on the soul, but Trunks would take back with him evidence that he truly _wasn__'t all bad._

Vegeta watched with the others as the time machine vanished. Under the sound of everyone's goodbyes, Vegeta slipped away quietly to be with himself.

Later that evening, Bulma and her parents sat watching the TV broadcast of Cell's defeat at the hands of Hercule. She smiled knowingly, shook her head, and stood up "I'm going to put Trunks to bed" she said, smiling to her parents.

She lay the already sleeping baby Trunks down for the night and paused for a moment to look at him. "If you grow up half as brave as you did in the other time…" She began, her thoughts trailing off.

As she walked down the hall, she stopped once more at Vegeta's door. She knocked gently, but there was no answer. She pushed open the door slightly, "Vegeta?" He was out on the balcony, leaning over the railings, gazing into the night. She walked up beside him and did the same. "…Hey."

Vegeta didn't move, his gaze fixed firmly on the horizon. "We're all sad Goku's gone, ya know." She said, looking up to the sky. Vegeta's lip wrinkled. "You have absolutely no clue, do you woman?" Bulma turned to look at him. Vegeta huffed at her, but quickly went on. It was as if the barrier was finally breaking down. "Even his blasted half-bred son is stronger than I. How can that be possible?" He swung his head to look at her, his voice was assertive and serious. Bulma's face saddened slightly, she wanted to tell him that didn't matter. She felt both sorry for him, but also frustrated that he couldn't see it didn't matter. He couldn't see what Goku meant to her and the others. He was so self-consumed. "Vegeta…" He looked away again. "No one can deny I've worked the hardest for it. I've kept myself awake at night thinking about the times I should have spent training, instead of _gallivanting_ with _you_." Bulma blushed suddenly, following his gaze out into the night. "Only to find out how little _Kakarot_ put into it by comparison, yet he surpassed me with ease." As Bulma listened to him emotionally unravel, she felt increasingly saddened and uncomfortable. "Becoming a super saiyan was like a cruel trick the universe played on me, giving me a taste of the glory only to be embarrassed again when it was stolen back. I worked… So… HARD!" Vegeta angrily clenched his hands into fists, growling through gritted teeth, before taking a deep breath and gripping the railing, turning his head away in shame, shaking with anger.

Bulma reached out to touch his tense shoulder, "I see now" He continued. "That it was never my destiny. I've lived my entire _pathetic_ life under the delusion that I would one day become the most powerful saiyan. I watched my race dwindle to a mere handful, and _still _it was beyond my reach, and now…" His voice calmed into a quiet dismay ,"now, I don't know what to do with myself. " Bulma didn't know how to respond.

"The boy," Said Vegeta suddenly, turning back to face her. "Is he walking yet?" Bulma looked to Vegeta, somewhat confused and paused for a moment. It was the first time Vegeta had even acknowledged his child. "H-he actually took his first steps today." She said proudly, smiling. "Well." Vegeta began, offering her a smirk. "Once he's walking confidently… I will begin his training."

Bulma let out a sighing laugh of relief, "Sure." Trunks could offer Vegeta a reason to live and for his proud soul to accept that was an emotional moment.

Bulma reached out to hold his hand and Vegeta looked down to watch. "I'm so glad that you're alive." She whispered. Vegeta wasn't, but it was an incredible fact that his fate had been so drastically altered. In the future, he was dead, this moment never existed. Vegeta looked up to her delicate smile. She moved forward suddenly, embracing him tightly around his neck and he froze, looking over her shoulder. His eyes moved to the side, to her silky blue hair reflecting the moonlight. He swallowed and raised his hand to the back of her head, the other to her lower back, holding her tight, quietly.

Eventually she pulled away and Vegeta let her go, the two looking into each others eyes in silence. Bulma's eyes were teary, but a smile upon her lips. She sniffed softly, and wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye. "Sorry…"

Vegeta's eyes fell to the ground, then he turned his head out at the sky once more. "I never imagined this." Bulma watched him, "I can't say I did either." She replied. His eyes still fixed on the stars, Vegeta's voice was stoic "Why do you choose it?"

Bulma's brows transformed her face to a look of confusion "Choose what?"

"This. Us. You could have anyone…" He turned his head back to her, "You have all the qualities the people of this planet admire."

Bulma blushed a little, "Well, you're interesting." She replied, Vegeta's expression unchanged, as if waiting for elaboration. "… You're." Vegeta blinked once, slowly, quirking a brow. "You're disinterested in everything normal, I mean, human men, care about… And, you. You just overwhelm me. You make me feel something I've never felt before. You're so curious."

"Why doesn't it bother you. The way I am. My past life. That I murdered your friends." His words were more of a statement than a question.

"It does." Bulma whispered sadly, "It bothers me a lot. But, there's more to you than that, you're changing. I've seen you change so much already. I trust you."

Vegeta just stared.

After moments of thoughtful silence, Bulma shot the same question back "And why me?"

Vegeta looked away. "I don't know. I don't understand it." Bulma averted her eyes in disappointment. "But, I feel something when I'm near you. Something, like you say, '_overwhelming_'. It distracts me when I'm away from you, consumes me when I'm near you. I feel it now."

Bulma felt a shiver run through her and she looked back to him, his eyes moving to hers but his head remaining still. "Gosh Vegeta," she blushed "I had no idea."

Vegeta turned his head to her, and reached for her waist, pulling her close, maintaining eye contact. Inside, she was melting under his ever-serious expression. He didn't understand his lustful attraction towards her, but he finally felt safe around her, and not through pride this time. He knew she was as equally private and proud as he. He had confirmation that she didn't judge him, confirmation of his _worth_ to her. His inhibitions and fear of how his body; his heart, that _draw_ towards her, it all fell away when he realised it mutual.

His eyes fluttered down her form and back to her face, his lips parted slightly and he lent forward to rest his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and letting out a lustful sigh.


	11. Undeniably A Monster

Bulma's eyes remained open, staring at Vegeta's eyelids. He seemed content. His muscles relaxed, his grip on her soft. Even the way his eyes were closed was, soft? "You look …Happy, Vegeta."

Vegeta's eyes opened and he lent back, blushing. "Hn."

She smiled, tilting her head down somewhat seductively. Vegeta took a deep breath in response. She was beautiful, gorgeous… But even Vegeta's inner monologue didn't have the words in its vocabulary to communicate that, let alone did he have the ability to say it out loud. Instead, his body reacted, goose bumps flowing over him and intense lustful pressure building in his abdomen. Happy was, perhaps, a bit extreme. He wondered to himself what the definition of it even was – had he ever been happy? But he was content in ways he'd never been. Still troubled, depressed, but, at least in that moment, he didn't feel lonely. He'd never even realised what loneliness was until that moment. This terrifying new feeling.

She pulled free of him and took his hand once more, pulling him back inside his room. She unzipped her jeans and let them fall to the ground, stepping out of them and walking over to Vegeta's bed, pulling the covers away and slipping in. She scooted across the bed and lent her elbow on the pillow, patting the bed beside her invitingly. Vegeta followed and she pulled the blanket up over them both, lying on their sides, facing one another. Bulma shuffled closer to him and he watched as she snuggled up to his clothed chest, her eyes closed. "Ya know," She said, softly, her eyes opening to gaze up at him. "Since you're royalty," Vegeta raised a brow at her acknowledgement, waiting for elaboration. "Does that make me your princess?" She winked and chuckled and Vegeta's brows both raised before he frowned and looked away. "You're not a saiyan." He snorted, before looking back down to her. She was human. She couldn't be less saiyan-like. Why did he find her so attractive? Bulma smiled at him. "No. I'm not." She was curious about him, about saiyans.

Vegeta's thoughts wandered as he gazed across the room. "Was the boy born with a tail, like Kakarot's son?" Bulma sat upright and looked at him, a lump forming in her throat. "Yes. I removed it. I… Thought it was for the best." Vegeta gave a single nod. Bulma looked away. "I'm sorry.

"No, you did what was right."

Bulma smiled and looked back at him, "Do you miss yours?" Vegeta tilted his head, as if to imply 'sometimes', "It was strange to be without it at first. I'm used to it now." Bulma nodded in understanding, enjoying their conversation. "On the planet where you were born," she continued, "how did they cope with the destruction hundreds of you caused once a month?" she asked inquisitively, smiling, almost laughing. "Full moons were far less common on Vegeta. I… I never witnessed a full moon there." Bulma's smile faded, her repeated attempts to lighten the mood had failed miserably. She hadn't realised until now just how broken he truly was. His outward persona had been a lie, shielding his fragile mind from the invasion she was leading. "How old were you? When it was destroyed?" Vegeta spoke softly "Five or so, I don't remember exactly..."

Bulma just looked at him sadly, his returned expression as void as it always was.

"What was it like?"

"Dry, hot. I don't remember much else."

There was something deeply sad about that void. Vegeta was royalty of a planet and race he barely knew? He looked away, "Most of what I know of my home world, I learnt from Nappa." Vegeta was becoming increasingly distressed, though instead of panic, he just vanished further into the void.

"The other saiyan who came with you to Earth?" She affirmed, "Yes" he replied, instantly.

"Do you… Miss, him?"

"He was the only link that tied me to my heritage. I didn't realize at the time how fragile that link was."

The both of them fell silent and the lump in her throat returned. Vegeta had _murdered_ him, his friend. She reached out to caress his face hesitantly, questioning her own passion and care for him. Regardless of the reasons for his actions, Vegeta's mistakes could not be ignored, and whilst she hoped they were indeed mistakes, she couldn't be 100% sure how he felt. He stared at her for a moment before he turned his head away. He could see it in her eyes. Suddenly she spoke again, "I can make my own choices, Vegeta". Bulma was strong, and smart, stronger and smarter than he was.

She lent down and united their lips, Vegeta gasping into her mouth before accepting and responding to it. What was _wrong _with her? Had she no fear and her disgust wasn't enough to stop her? He didn't understand. She broke the kiss and moved to lie down beside him again, facing him, reuniting their lips, placing a hand on his clothed chest.

Vegeta broke the kiss and looked her dead in the eyes. "I don't want your pity." He said, without an ounce of anger, but rather concern. Bulma's heart raced and she gasped, "I don't pity you. I just want you." She felt nauseous with her own lust, reaching round to burry her fingers in his thick hair, pulling their bodies close. Their eyes closed as the kiss was reuinted, Vegeta's hand pulling her waist tight against his and helplessly giving into temptation, pushing his hips forward to grind against her.

Vegeta rolled, pushing her onto her back and moving atop her, passionately kissing her, her arms still clung round his neck, fingers deep in his hair, ruffled from the pillow on one side of his head. He pushed himself up, and she released him, hands moving to his shoulders. He stared down at her, his breaths heavy. Bulma smiled at the ragged prince, he was so strange, she had to remind herself continually that he wasn't human. She pulled up the bottom of his shirt, and Vegeta sat up to remove it completely, Bulma's small hands on his abdomen. His muscles were even more defined than before, his narrow hips revealing just how small he was under the mass. After a moment of watching her look over him, he moved to one side to pull down his shorts. As he returned to his position on his hands and knees over her, his arousal bounced slightly and Bulma moved her gaze up to his face with a gentle smile, wriggling to push down her panties and sliding back to sit up and pull her top off over her head, undoing her bra. The second she was done; he grabbed her leg and pulled her back down, returning to his position over her. Bulma was shocked, but before she had a chance to react his lips were on hers and he smothered her with his weight as he lay down atop her.

As the two moved against one another, suddenly their world was disrupted by an infants cry. Both their eyes flew open and Vegeta broke the kiss, staring back at her. A moment passed before Bulma looked to the door. "Sorry, I have to…" Vegeta huffed at her, rolling to the side.

She stood up and grabbed _his_ shorts and top, putting him on and quickly leaving the room, the door left a jar…

Vegeta watched her leave and slumped down into the bed. That cry was a reminder of where he was, what his life had become, his mind flashing back to yesterday's events. He would get lost and mesmerized by her presence, but his mind battled to rein him back in the second she was gone. He let out a sigh.

Silence returned and before long Bulma had too, slipping in the doorway and ever so gently closing it behind her. "Sorry." She whispered again, walking towards him, his baggy shirt hanging over her and fluttering in the breeze. "Where were we?" She smiled, sitting on the bed, but he was staring off into the distance.

"Vegeta, what's wrong?"

It was all too much for him. Too much to think about. He closed his eyes.


	12. Different

The emotional flurry when a passionate moment is disrupted is unlike any other. She felt vulnerable, guilty and desperate. "Vegeta, please?"

"I'm fine." He said eventually in his familiar tone, looking up to her. There was a pause for a moment before he braved a grin "Well…?"

He wasn't fine. He was struggling to cope with her company. His mind wanted the familiarity and comfort of loneliness, but his body craved her. He couldn't make up his mind. He tried to remind himself that he was safe with her.

She smiled and slipped out of his clothes and under the blankets beside him, resting a hand on his chest. She pushed her leg between his, slowly moving it up his thigh. Vegeta let out a long, lustful breath, closing his eyes and she ran the hand on his chest down to his hip, trailing her fingers teasingly. Moving her leg down, her hand searched for him, and when she was finally able to gently take hold, he twitched violently to her touch. She curled her fingers around him, exploring him for the first time properly. He was small, at least in her experience, but he was intensely in tune with his body and that made it seem like he was also in tune with hers.

Abstract sex was one thing, but her touch was incredibly personal. His face didn't show his awkward discomfort as he stared back at her, so she continued, moving her hand up and down, his silky skin sliding with her. She buried her face into his neck, kissing him there. The intensity mounting, he wrapped his arms around her back, clutching to her small form, bucking his hips at her slightly.

Suddenly he rolled, pushing her onto her back and mounting her, hiding his face in her neck. He had to be inside her, the carnal feeling had grown too intense, and his lust couldn't be concealed from her. She smiled with closed eyes in anticipation. As his huge shoulders moved with every heavy breath, Bulma sunk into the bed willingly. He tentatively pushed at her, and she spread one leg out to the side, rearranging herself to allow him to easily enter her. She gasped, familiarizing herself with him inside her once more, it had been so long. The warm and overwhelming sensation of her left him paralyzed for a moment, but then he began to thrust at her, his strokes long and melodic, but their pace quickened before long. His movements were never forced, but primal reactions. Their experience progressed mutually; it was impossible for her to be out of tune with his rhythm.

He pushed himself upward, rising up above her, staring down to make eye contact. His gaze was terrifyingly intense and, for the first time, dominant over her. He moved from laying legs outstretched to sitting back on his knees, and pulled her upright, his arms moving around her back tightly, so she was sat in his lap. She rolled her hips at him, his hands supporting and enhancing her movements, his head falling back slightly with eyes closed. Vegeta thrust upward at her, pulling her down into him as he did so and she let out a gasp, a gentle moan, pulling his head forward tightly against her chest as she rode him.

In an instant Vegeta practically threw them both forward, and she landed on her back, moaning louder into his ear and he passionately pumped his hips forward with force, her legs tightly wrapped around his waist. His moans back at her were stifled into her neck as he released, gripping her body tightly under him as his began to quiver. He twitched inside her several times before he finally released, breathing heavily.

Through each others gasping breaths of exhaustion and ecstasy, Bulma sighed happily, rubbing Vegeta's huge scarred back, enjoying his weight atop her. His breaths against her neck began to slow, but he gently nuzzled, rubbing his lips there. She giggled and pulled away, "hey that tickles, what are you doing?"

Vegeta blushed, coming round from the intense euphoria and contented feeling, staring back at her. She smiled and kissed his cheek.

A kiss to the cheek is very different to a lustful meeting of the lips. In ways, it's nature as a playful show of affection and not the result of an intense hormonal surge made it far more difficult for Vegeta to both understand and accept. He stared at her blankly for a few moments, her loving, knowing smile unjudgemental. She stroked his face, to which he rolled away from her.

Vegeta lay on his back. After their first time together, Bulma had retreated in embarrassment on both of their behalves. The second time, he'd fallen asleep from exhaustion in her bed before running away. This time, they lie in his, neither having reason to flee. She suddenly curled up under his arm, resting her head on the crevice of his shoulder, her hands on his stomach, a leg over his. This closeness was not lustfully leading to sex, this was _normal_; two people enjoying each other's company. Vegeta watched her awkwardly; she just smiled back at him. She knew.

Vegeta had lived his life on the go. External changes weren't something that fazed him. He could cope with the people around him dying, he could cope with the environment around him changing. He'd never once thought about being close to anyone before Bulma _happened_. Never. There had never been female saiyans around, so the thought had just never crossed his mind. He was far too distracted by planet purging during his teenage years to have noticed his body mature and desire a physical companion. Far too busy drowning his psychological struggles under ever more layers of bodies and his own strict training regimes to have desired even a friend

She was beautiful. She was… _His_?

Vegeta's lip wrinkled at the thought, his stomach fluttering.

"So," Bulma began, looking to his chest, gently caressing him with her hand "can this become a more regular event, now?"

That boldness was what allowed it all to happen. Yes he wanted to scream. Yes!

He glanced back at her. He smirked, pretending to be confident, inside not so much. "Hmph." He grunted, agreeably.

Author note: _This_ is where I had intended to end this.

NinjaWhisper posted a comment saying they were interested to read about Vegeta bonding with Trunks. It's something I'm going to have to have a think about, because right now, I'm not confident with how I would characterise the two's interaction. How did Kid Trunks become the cocky little shit he is has always been a bit of an enigma to me. It may be that, like his father, he's concealing the damage. I'll have a think.

I may just continue this on with further chapters or I may write a sequel.

I am reallllly interested in Bulma and Vegeta's relationship post the Majin fiasco, so that'll probably happen one day in context of the characterisation you saw here.

So stay tuned.

Thank you for reading. Thank you, thank, you, thank you for following and commenting and for enjoying. It means a lot. Please continue to do so. :)


	13. Family

Author note: Most people promise chapters then vanish. I say it's over then write a new chapter practically the following day. Y'all better love me.

I had a surge of inspiration during a quiet period at work, so here we go...

"Trunks hunny, pass me that wrench over there..." Said Bulma, pointing out across the floor of her lab. The young boy happily stood up and went to collect it, bringing it back to her, sitting cross legged beside her and watching her work. "Thanks sweetie! You're the best little helper!" Trunks chucked back at her.

"Trunks" Vegeta's deep voice called out from the doorway. He stood there in his training shorts, his torso bare, towel around his neck, waiting for his son. Trunks turned to look at him and grinned happy to see his father, who moved on from the doorway. The boy was instantly up and skipping happily after him.

It had become a routine by the time Trunks was five. Vegeta would train him for around an hour a day - well, most days, usually in the morning. Some days Bulma insisted he rest. Vegeta's training had returned to its normal excess before long after Goku's death. He was bored, more than anything. But he wasn't quite as obsessive as before, he'd only train for a few hours opposed to all day and, on occasion, miss days completely.

Bulma watched her son skip happily after his father. His enthusiasm to spend time with him training was cute and she knew it must make Vegeta happy, though he'd never show it, of course.

Later that morning, Bulma stood with her visitor in the kitchen, chatting cheerfully. She'd remained close friends with Yamaha even after they had split up. He was a good friend and an even better gossip... They just weren't right for each other.

Vegeta, taking a break from training, entered the kitchen coated in sweat. He saw Yamcha and groaned to himself, ignoring him completely and walking straight to the fridge for a cold drink, before walking straight back out.

Bulma stifled a chuckle at the awkwardness, turning to pick up her coffee from the counter. Whilst Yamcha was understandably weary of Vegeta, Vegeta was completely unthreatened by his presence. He just thought Yamcha was an idiot. Harmless, but certainly not worth her time, let alone his own.

"I don't think I will ever understand what a beautiful girl like you sees in a guy like Vegeta." Yamcha whined, crossing his arms and grinning. "Well," Bulma replied, also grinning, "I'm not quite as vain as you." She winked, clutching her coffee mug in both hands before taking a sip, successfully both defending herself and taking a cut at him. Yamcha sighed at her "It's not just about looks Bulma. You know what I mean." Bulma shrugged at him, "I'm more forgiving too, like remember that time you-"

"Okay, okay Bulma, I get the picture."

Bulma smiled and Yamcha laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"So do you guys" he continued "do normal family stuff together?" Bulma laughed, "Can you imagine Vegeta doing '_normal family stuff__'_?" Yamcha looked sort of concerned, "Don't you worry about Trunks growing up without that stuff?" Bulma shrugged again, "No. I did at first, but that was back when I was convinced Vegeta wouldn't stick around at all. Now I know Trunks turned out just fine in the future with no father around. So I think he's going to be just fine…"

"I guess that's true."

"You've also got to remember, Yamcha" Bulma went on, placing her mug down on the side and her face turning serious "that Goten doesn't even have his dad... He's never even met him. Trunks gets to spend a lot of time with Vegeta, he's lucky to have him around. I think he's aware of that."

"Training is hardly spending quality time together." Yamcha replied.

"Well, that's what saiyans do…" She smiled defensively of her peculiar family, she knew it was strange, but it worked. Sort of. Yamcha couldn't imagine how it worked.

Trunks was in fact enjoying the benefits of a privileged childhood. Not only did he live with both parents and his grandparents, but came from a wealthy family. And whilst Vegeta was far from a caring father, often aloof, he was _there_ and Trunks was spending time with him. Whether Vegeta showed his son any affection Bulma didn't know. He was private, and didn't show her any affection in front of anyone else, even Trunks.

Trunks suddenly ran into the kitchen and around the table, holding his arms outstretched with a toy plane in one hand. Bulma smiled towards Yamcha, who smiled back. He was a happy kid.

Vegeta landed heavily on the floor of the gravity room, struggling to stand, sweat dripping down to the floor at speed. He turned to the control panel and switched it off. "Decreasing gravity… 400, 300, 200…" Said the machine in its automated voice. Vegeta tilted his head back and sighed in relief, cracking his neck to the side, grabbing the towel to wipe his forehead.

Vegeta left the gravity room, Trunks running around barefoot on the lawn with his plane. Vegeta raised a brow and shook his head, walking straight past and into Capsule Corp.

He stood in the bathroom naked, looking over his tight shoulder muscles in the mirror. He often wondered what Kakarot was doing in the afterlife, rewarded with keeping his body to train for eternity. Even in death he was still probably ahead. Vegeta grumbled to himself, when the door suddenly opened and he glanced to the side to see Bulma "Oh hey!" She smiled at him, rolling her eyes down his form and winking, Vegeta's lip wrinkled and his brows furrowed. "Sorry," She said with a chuckle, "I didn't know you were in here." She came in and shut the door behind her.

"What do you want?" He sighed. She walked in front of him, raising a brow before the smell hit her "been working hard I see." She laughed, fanning her nose. Vegeta just growled back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and touched her nose to his lovingly, and he closed his eyes in reciprocation, holding her waist.

"What was that fool doing here today?"

"Just catching up. I know he doesn't bother you, don't pretend to be all defensive of little old me." She winked. "You have _nothing _to worry about, and you know it." Vegeta smirked back at her, opening his eyes, proud of himself. "I'm not worried." He pulled her tighter against his body.

Though unconventional and extremely private, their relationship had blossomed. Flirtation and affectionate moments were now common between them, sometimes he even initiated them.

Vegeta let her go and moved towards the shower, opening the door and stepping inside. Bulma grinned, undressing herself and joining him. He quirked a brow at her quizzically, and she laughed back, embracing him and kissing his lips. Her attraction towards him had only mounted the more time she spent with him. His hair fell heavy with the water and began to slump from its erect form, water cascading and dripping from his chiseled chest. She understood why someone might question her attraction, but she saw an oddly handsome and mysterious man. His mysteriousness wasn't the conventionally nice kind, _but_ perhaps she needed a mental challenge. Bulma's gifted intelligence and natural inquisitiveness were probably why she found him so arousing. She moved her hand into his matted thick hair and he grinned to her, an expression she understood as Vegeta for "I fucking love you."

Vegeta was happy, but he didn't know it. Intimate moments with her were something he subconsciously looked forward to and, on occasion, found himself seeking out. But when you've spent your life addicted to all that that is dark, sadness offers a familiar comfort, and it would often draw him back for a quick fix, usually in his subconscious thought.


	14. Legacy

Author note: Sorry about the comparative delay in getting this to you guys. I've been trying to plan ahead a bit, figuring out how to tackle condensing the upcoming canon events to add just enough context without boring everyone with stuff they already know!

Sorry for the lack of lemon you may have been hoping for. I was going to, but I felt it may distract too much from the upcoming nosedive...

Please continue to leave feedback (good and bad!) and welcome to my newest followers, hope you're enjoying the ride. Let me know!

Vegeta sat up from his sleep abruptly, panting. The bed covers twitched beside him… Sometimes he slept alongside her, though not that often. Most nights he suffered with nightmares, and whilst Bulma had never asked about it and he was unaware she knew, she often lay pretending to be asleep whilst his breathing quickened. She was worried about him, but figured it was only natural after living the life he has and that it wasn't worth traumatizing him further. The right time to ask about it would come along, one day.

Vegeta calmed himself, and swung to sit on the edge of the bed. His dreams increasingly involved his new family in danger he was inflicted upon them or returning to his past life. Subconscious desires, perhaps. He stood, walking towards the en suit bathroom, shaking that thought away.

Standing at the sink, he splashed his face with cold water and looked up to the mirror. Staring back was the same man he'd always seen, why would he have changed inside? His eyes turned away, then his head swung to the side as if on a loose hinge of self-doubt, glancing through the door to Bulma's form under the bedsheets. His emotional attachment to her made little sense in his mind, still certain that she had held him back in some way. The truth was, the opposite had been true. The intensity of pleasure when he was engulfed in a moment with her was often reflected by regret later on; ashamed of having let his body give in to desire, yet he still went back, increasingly more often. He went back because, contrary to what he wanted to believe, he desired her more than just physically. Part of him knew that, but he was still pushing it to the back of his mind, desperately clinging to his old self.

Bulma's eyes opened slowly to the morning light, and the spot where Vegeta had laid in her bed was cold. He'd retreated to his own room after he awoke in the night. She sat up and stared sadly at the flattened empty sheets beside her, pushing strands of hair behind her ear. A little knock low down her door caught her attention and she looked over with a smile, "Come in!" Trunks fumbled with the doorknob and jogged inside and up to her bed happily. "Time to get up!" He excitedly exclaimed. "Time for breakfast!"

Bulma placed a bow of cereal down in front of him and he happily got stuck in, swinging his legs under the table and humming joyfully. Bulma sat down with her coffee to a pile of paperwork, and Vegeta soon also appeared. "Morning." She said, without looking up, taking a sip of her coffee. Vegeta didn't reply, he never did, and her eyes glanced up to Trunks who was also gleefully ignoring Vegeta's presence also. They really were weird. And Trunks was clearly oblivious to how weird this awkward non-talk was.

"Trunks, hurry up and finish your food." Said Vegeta as he left the kitchen, to which Trunks nodded happily with full mouth "Mm-Hm!"

Trunks picked up the bowl and tipped the last remaining pieces of cereal and milk into his mouth, wiped his lips on his sleeve and hopped off the chair running out of the room, "Bye mom!"

"Bye Trunks!" Bulma called out, but he was gone, and she sighed, looking out the window to see him run across the yard to the gravity room to join his father.

"We'll train outside today." Vegeta said in his usual, gruff, emotionless tone. Trunks looked at him confused "But, why? We always train in the gravity room." He asked, stepping aside as his father walked on. "It's time you learnt to fly." A smile beamed across the child's face and he clenched his fists excitedly, "Yeah!" He ran after his father, who abruptly stopped, and the young boy collided with leg.

"Lesson one…" Spat Vegeta as he glanced over his shoulder at the boy, now sat on the path looking up to him. "Look where you are going." He growled, sternly. Trunks shamefully looked away, then stood up.

Before long, Trunks was levitating unsteadily. Consumed with child-like fantasies of freedom and the cockiness inherited from his father, he was trying to run before he could walk. He laughed excitedly, flying in clumsy circles above Vegeta as he stood there crossing his arms. A snarl crossed Vegeta's lips and he reached out to grab Trunks leg, pulling him sharply. Trunks was yanked from concentration and collided rear first with the grass. "Pay attention!" Snapped his father, angrily. "This is no time for games, boy! _You_ are destined to become a great warrior. After myself, _you_ will be the second greatest in the universe." Trunks rubbed his rear and stifled back a cry. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Vegeta shouted. The young Trunks nodded. "Now get up!"

Trunks got up, looking up with a serious expression to his father. Vegeta smirked, "Very good."

Bulma watched them from the window. It was rare to see them outside of the gravity room. She suspected half the reason was Vegeta's fear of her intervening with his questionable parenting techniques. It was hard to watch him inflict obvious pain on their son, but she had to keep reminding herself - They weren't human. This was another culture and he had a right, perhaps even a duty, to ensure Trunks walked that path. Vegeta was the last remaining survivor of an extinct race, and royalty too. He carried with him that burden of pride on his shoulder, and standing before him was the next in line. Bulma smiled weakly, herself proud, imagining the lecture Vegeta was giving the boy about his royal bloodline.

Bulma was sat in her lab, going over some paperwork. She brought her coffee to her lips, but it was cold. Her eyes glanced to the clock, was that really the time? The boys' training session had lasted far longer than usual. Suddenly though, she heard the familiar patter of hurried footsteps along the hall and Trunks entered her lab, hair wet scruffy from a quick shower. "Mom!" He yelled excitedly, she smiled. "Hey you!"

"I can fly! I can fly! I can fly!" Trunks yelled, levitating from the ground in her lab, blasting forward and landing in front of her desk. Bulma clapped proudly, though not surprised. "Woohoo! Go Trunks!" She stood up and moved around her desk to bend down to give him a hug. "Well done, Trunks! Your father and I are really proud of you." Trunks blushed, pulling away.

"So, has your father been lecturing you?" She asked with a smile, sitting back at her desk. Trunks nodded, "Yeeeeah, but he says I'm going to be the second strongest person in the universe." Bulma smirked, "Oh? After who?" Trunks' reply was filled with pride as his he crossed his arms, "Dad, obviously." Bulma chuckled a little. "Oh of course, silly me! Well, I guess since _you__'re_ the son of the famous _Prince of all Saiyans_!" Trunks quirked a brow as Bulma chuckled, "Huh?" He questioned, hopping to sit on the side of her desk. Bulma looked at him confused, but still grinning. There's no way Vegeta hasn't proudly proclaimed his royal status to Trunks, she thought. "Your dad was the prince of all saiyans back on his home planet, remember?" She said, thinking maybe it's just slipped Trunks mind. "Wooooah, really?!" Trunks said, beaming with amazement. Bulma was confused, "Uh huh! Pretty neat, right?"

Trunks swung his head and looked out across the room in thought, "So _that__'s _why he's the most powerful saiyan ever! That's so _cool_!" He proclaimed thoughtfully. Bulma looked at him. Had Vegeta really never told him? Why? He'd made damn sure everyone else knew. "Well," Bulma began "Gohan is still really powerful, ya know. And so was his dad! I bet one day little Goten will be to! You better watch out!" She laughed, reaching to tickle his side. Trunks closed his eyes, crossing his arms once more with a smirk, "Yeah, but dad could still beat 'em." Bulma just smiled. His father's son, alright.

Trunks suddenly turned to his mother with a confused look. "Why did Goten and Gohan's dad leave them?" Bulma's face turned sad. "He did something very brave to protect his family, to project you, me, to project everyone on Earth." She said. "He sacrificed himself in hope no one else would have to die." She left it at that, not wanting to confuse his mental picture of his father and Gohan. Trunks looked down. "But now they don't have a dad." He said thoughtfully. Bulma wondered for a moment what was more important. "You're very lucky to have yours, Trunks." She placed her hand on his head, ruffling his hair lovingly.


	15. The Descent

Author note: I don't much like this chapter, but it's a means to an end... I'm sorry. Hope you guys like it more than I do. I've been slower because It's been a struggle. I'm currently writting Chapter 17, I wanted to get ahead and make sure stuff works before I posted this one. But I'm sick of rereading it now. Feedback pleeeeease.

Trunks threw his fist towards Gotens face, but the younger boy dodged to the side with a goofy expression of shock, followed by a chuckle. Trunks' brows furrowed and Goten stuck out his tongue mockingly. The fair-haired Trunks turned and landed a punch right on Goten's nose.

"Heeeey!" Goten wailed, clutching his face with both hands and stumbling back, his voice muffled. "I thought we were just playing!" he sniffed. Trunks crossed his arms and smirked. "We are! _You__'re_ just a baby."

Goten tried to look at his red nose, his eyes crossed over. "You need to train harder, Goten," began Trunks "'cuz _my_ dad is the strongest guy in the universe, and one day _I__'m_ going to be too! So you better watch out!" He pointed to his chest, boastingly. Goten looked to Trunks innocently, the pain suddenly parting him. "Woooah, really?" Trunks nodded in response, grinning proudly. "I train with dad _every_ single day, that's why I'm so much stronger than you!" He proclaimed, hands on his hips. Goten nodded and blinked in understanding, whilst Trunks' expression took on a look of disappointment as his eyes moved away, "Dad's gone somewhere though. We were supposed to train yesterday, a-and today…"

Goten smiled, "Well, we can still train!" He said happily, fists clenched.

Bulma was preparing to show something new to the press, so Vegeta had made himself scarce. It had been several years since he last vanished into solitude for days. Left with only his own thoughts and no distraction, Vegeta's mind was a dangerous place. It was all too easy for his thoughts to slip just like his subconscious would at night, and he had no qualms letting them surface. If anything, he welcomed them like old friends. Old, abusive friends he just couldn't shake ties with, still seemingly unaware of how damaging they were to him on every level, even his growth in power.

He floated above a desolate landscape, raising his hand out in front of him, a vibrating ball of light forming in his palm. His mind flickering through memories of blowing up entire planets this way and a smirk crept over his lips as he relived the experience, firing the comparatively small blast down into the earth and scarring the landscape. He lowered himself down into the crater, dust and rocks still settling around him. He was… Bored. Almost seven years had past since the events that had finally put an end to Cell. _Seven long years._ Before he came to Earth, Vegeta hadn't even experienced a day's peace, but had managed accumulated an entire decade's worth on the blue planet.

Vegeta arrived back at a quiet Capsule Corp late that evening, the lawn decorated in marquees and chairs, now all vacant. Bulma had not long said goodbye to the last of her guests, and was just making her way exhaustedly to the kitchen. Her event had gone well. She enjoyed being the centre of attention, enjoyed dolling herself up for the press and the distraction had led her to think little of the missing saiyan prince, who to her surprise was already in the kitchen, head in the fridge…

"Oh hello stranger." she grinned, slightly intoxicated, sitting down clumsily at the kitchen table and taking off her heals. Vegeta glanced up her curved form appreciating what he saw, then hid his face back behind the fridge door. "What the hell are you wearing, woman?" He sneered, more an insult than a question. Bulma snarkily grinned in response, "I'll have you know, that I look _incredible_ this evening, Vegeta." He huffed, pulling out the plate of BBQ leftovers from the party and setting them on the table, sitting off to her side. She lent on her elbow, wearily watching him with a grin. With a mouth full and without moving his head, Vegeta's eyes moved out to meet hers, "What?" He spat. She shook her head with a silent laugh. "Oh, nothing!"

Several months later, Vegeta overheard that Gohan would be entering the World Martial Arts Tournament. The competition would provide Vegeta with a purpose and the chance to prove he'd overtaken the young half-Saiyan in the past 7 years. Gohan had grown from a boy into a young man, but his training had suffered under schoolwork. That in itself frustrated Vegeta. How dare he? How dare he ignore such power and natural ability whilst he himself had worked so hard to attain what he had, despite the promise of blood right. But what was even more important was that Goku was being given the privileged opportunity to come back to Earth for just one day to compete. A chance to fight Kakarot again filled Vegeta with excitement and determination. The revelation spurred him back into a training regime that took up every waking moment. He became instantly distant towards Bulma, though luckily for him she had a growing workload of projects to concentrate on, oblivious to the affect her pushy interactions actually had in keeping him sane. Vegeta's training of his son had also intensified in preparation for the tournament. Trunks _had_ to beat Kakarot's youngest, instilling that rivalry between them was incredibly important to Vegeta, as it was all he himself had known throughout his life and all he had to teach. The friendship between the two boys was at times frustrating, especially when Vegeta wished nothing more for Trunks to demonstrate his power over the younger boy in a show of royal dominance. But Vegeta kept an emotional distance. Learning of the boys acquisition of the super saiyan form filled Vegeta more with anger than pride. If only he had harnessed such power at that age his life would have turned out so very different. Kakarot, himself and then Gohan had all struggled; the young boys had lived a life of peace and luxury. It made little sense to him.

The day of the tournament panned out very differently than anyone had expected... Bulma had looked on in nauseated awe, feeling immense judgment from her friends around her, as Vegeta heartlessly murdered spectators and put their own lives at risk. The manic look in his eye clashed violently with the symbol of hope the super saiyan form had come to represent. Bulma's heart sunk as she realised that Vegeta's desire to prove himself against Goku was more important than anything else, even her life. She couldn't help feel responsible, wondering what had gone wrong.

Goku stood before the maniacal prince with knowledge that put his mind to more ease than Bulma's. He was convinced that this behavior was nothing more than Babidi's magic, quietly confident that underneath it all was a changed man who'd never even think to do something like this. He had hope and trust in Vegeta that the dark saiyan price truly did not deserve. And despite the fact Goku knew he couldn't loose, Vegeta's reckless willingness to murder until he agreed to fight him was genuinely terrifying…


	16. Realisations

Arriving at the Lookout through the Kai's use of instant transmission, Vegeta was filled with dread among his joyful comrades…

So much had happened in the little time that had passed since the tournament. Vegeta's head was a whirlwind of conflicting emotion. He'd purposefully let himself get caught up in the hunt of potentially defeating Goku. He'd made horrible mistakes as a consequence. He'd given his life to not only proudly demonstrate himself as Goku's equal, but to atone his sins and attempt to put right what had gone so wrong; for his loved ones. His love one's that he'd only just come to accept he had under the emotional turmoil of realization. And in doing so take his place as a _hero_. Or so he thought, only to later find that he never stood a chance against Goku, or in destroying Buu, or ever being a true hero when your moral understanding of life is so dependant on your mental state. He'd accepted that he would spend the rest of eternity without ever seeing his acquaintances, his family, again, only to be given a second chance to stand by his rival's side, to unite bodies with him and _help_ destroy Buu. He'd had to accept defeat, given up his pride and respectfully aided Goku, acting as a mere distraction, risking his afterlife in otherworld when only nothingness existed on the other side. He felt pathetic.

His pride battered, Vegeta was ashamed, but nothing he'd experienced was anywhere near as painful as the idea of seeing _her_ again. Goku had a profound effect on Vegeta in so many ways, but in the last few days, his repeated reminders of Bulma and Trunks safety had hit home. Vegeta wondered how Goku could be so confident of Vegeta's feelings for them, when the saiyan prince himself had been yet to realize. Angrily, Vegeta had dismissed it at first, but that anger soon became fear. Goku projected the way he felt about his loved ones onto everyone, he couldn't imagine anyone not feeling that intense need to protect, whilst Vegeta was confused by the realization that he wasn't immune to such emotional ties. She, and the child, mattered. They were the _only things_ that mattered now.

Vegeta stood back from Goku and Dende as silence amongst their friends and family erupted into joy. Amongst the sea of faces was hers. Arms crossed and his face laden with shame, Vegeta quietly contained himself, feeling the need to turn away from the intensity of her gaze. Trunks ran to his fathers' side, his small hands gripping at his tattered glove tightly, lovingly, unjudgmentally, just thrilled to have his father back from the dead. Vegeta swallowed in an attempt to clear his dry throat, awkwardly acknowledging the boy "Yes, Son". Bulma stood behind them quietly, wanting nothing more than to reach out to him and look into his deep eyes, but she knew the moment should wait until they were out of the prying eyes Vegeta perceived burning all around them. In reality, everyone was too busy showering Goku with affection and pride for his latest success, his family and friends lovingly at his side. Vegeta perceptions were skewed, but perhaps the reality was sadder still. He was unacknowledged for his efforts completely.

Vegeta flew, carrying Bulma in his arms, his eyes sternly fixed on the horizon. Their son happily whizzing all around Vegeta's deathly straight line in excitement. Vegeta wanted to get back to Capsule Corp immediately. He was exhausted and needed to be alone with his embarrassment. Bulma clung to his thick neck, looking over his serious gaze with overwhelming emotion. He was alive. And he was carrying her home. No one would understand how something so simple could mean so much, small tears thankfully caught in the wind and rapidly taken away from her face. Vegeta had sensed her stare, but his expression never changed. He dreaded her questions. Her affections. He deserved none of it. He wanted the familiar punishment of solitude, of his own mind gruelingly criticizing him. Maybe, as soon as he was rested, he should run… He blasted forward at greater speed into the sunset, Trunks noticing but struggling to keep up with his fathers speed. "H-hey waaaait!"

Vegeta touched down in the yard, looking up at the building. Bulma was staring at him longingly, but he refused to return her gaze, lowering her legs down and allowing her to stand. She stood in front of him, and reached out for his hand, which he lifelessly let her take in her own. "Vegeta…" she whispered gently. He looked down to his hand clutched in her own, closed his eyes, and opened them to meet hers. She smiled sweetly at him, reaching to his face with her other hand. The sound of air erupting disturbed the moment, their young son approached to land, and Vegeta grabbed her hand to stop her, walking on towards the house without uttering a sound. Trunks cheerfully ran across the lawn behind him, leaving Bulma standing sadly alone.

She gave him space for as long as she could bare it. Trunks had already fallen asleep on the couch, and Bulma had awoken him to send him to bed early. She suspected his father may too have already fallen asleep and so she gently pushed open the door of his room and peered inside. The bedside lamp was on, casting a yellow hue over the bed where he sat, slouched, propped up by pillows, his head tilted towards her.

"Hey…" She muttered, inviting herself in, gently shutting the door behind her. He turned away.

"It's _okay_, Vegeta. I forgive you. I know you weren't yourself, I know you've _changed_-"

Vegeta turned his head to look at her with cold, lifeless eyes. "Bulma." He said, sternly, cutting her off. The use of her name shocked her enough to keep her silent. There was a pause that felt like an eternity, before his dark eyes moved away from her once more. "You possess superior intelligence. Don't _insult_ us both with such _delusions.__"_ At first, Bulma wondered what he he meant, but he didn't give her a chance to ask… "You invited me into your home, risking your life and putting your family and friends in danger._ I_ could have used the dragon balls to wish for eternal life, or simply for Kakarot to be destroyed by my hand. And then_ you_ initiated conceiving a child. You provided facilities that risked me gaining enough power to destroy the entire world. Don't _pretend _this was all because you believed my heart was _good_, that I could _change_. You did it because you have no fear, because you _don__'t care_ what I am – that I'm evil. Because you are _reckless_."

He turned his head, his eyes moving to look at her once more. "I haven't changed, woman." He spat. "Not like you want to believe for morality sake." His lip wrinkled at her.

Her eyes fluttered around the room for a moment in confusion before her brows furrowed in defense. "…_Y-you _can _pretend _to be a bad man all you like, but I heard you today! I heard you ask all the people of Earth for help! You helped save the entire planet. You sacrificed your life to save Earth!" She walked towards the bed, gesturing her arms as she spoke, angry. "Why do _you_ have to keep _pretending_ to hate_ every_-"

Vegeta bared his teeth at her, leaning forwards, placing a hand on the bed and scrunching up the sheets. "Not for Earth!" He interrupted, growling loudly. There was a pause as his angry expression intensified. "I didn't sacrifice _anything_ for _Earth_. My sacrifice was _for you_."

Bulma's expression softened in shock.

Vegeta sighed, loosening his grip on the sheets, his gaze still sharply fixated upon her and his brows still drawn tightly together. "I _couldn__'t care less_ about _Earth_ or it's inhabitants. I'm no hero. I am _not Kakarot_." He snarled, but his voice then softened as he sat back, looking away. "You and the child… You were my only concern."

Goku cared for all life indiscriminately, even his enemies. But Vegeta could not, and he wasn't the kind to lie about it in search of approval, even from her. He was morally unjust, in spite of what he knew was right and wrong, he never felt it tugging at him. He'd tried to make the right decisions, he'd tried not trying, and nothing made him _feel._ But… She. She stirred an emotion within him. He felt her judging gaze burning into the side of his cheek, and he cared what she thought. Her weight landed on the bed gently, her warm hand placed atop his…

There was a long pause, before her hand gently squeezed his and she spoke softly "I… love you."

Vegeta's ears pricked slightly to her words and he turned to look at her. A tear was rolling slowly down her cheek, but there was a soft smile upon her lips. She'd never said those words before, he'd never seen her cry, and suddenly, he realised that perhaps his own words were far more powerfully moving than he'd anticipated. He searched her face for clues.

"You're right." She said softly, breaking the silence they shared of staring into each other's eyes a loss for words. "It doesn't matter to me." She lent towards him, her grip on his hand still tight, and closed her eyes as she approached his face. Her scent whirled in the air. It had been several months since he'd been this close with her, but in that moment it was hard to imagine how any distraction was ever great enough to overpower this lust. Following suit, his eyes closed, his head tilted to one side and he lent into her lips. She had a calming effect on him, and perhaps she was more alike him than anyone would dare imagine.

The instant their lips met, fiery passion rushed through Vegeta followed by a calm, his fears slowly residing. As they broke the kiss, his eyes opened to meet with her lustful blue stare, their faces still close enough to feel each other's breath.

"…I let you die." Vegeta whimpered, quietly. She'd never known his voice so soft or words so filled with sadness escape him and it sent shivers down her spine. Her eyes couldn't help show concern, - pity. He could read that expression like a book, and he closed his own eyes shamefully tilting his head down. Seeing the proud saiyan prince falter under her gaze was heart wrenching. Years of frustration towards that outward persona suddenly felt… Meaningless. "No!" She whispered with urgency, her words hurried, her hands immediately on his cheeks. "I wanted to hate you, Vegeta, I really wanted too. You're right. Morally, I-I should. But I can't. You're right. When you died…" A tear blurred her vision, so she blinked to release it. "Thinking about where you'd gone…" She trailed off, his gaze never returning to her. "The thought of never seeing you again, even in the otherworld…"

Bulma was strong and intelligent. It was perhaps why Vegeta had let her in, or maybe it was just because she was the only potential mate he'd ever spent any time with and the only person who'd ever been pushy enough to break down this defenses… But seeing her so emotional was difficult. Vegeta struggled to deal with his own emotions and realisations; seeing someone he… _Respected_, break down like this was a new and traumatic experience. Deep in his throat was the intense physical realization of overwhelming emotion familiar to you or I, but to Vegeta, it was alien and it felt like it could throttle him. Underneath it all, that lustful sensation that being close to her brought with it was pulsing through him, and he could smell it on her too. Mental exhaustion seemed to only enhance his desire. He reached for her waist – that safe signifier they shared, and Bulma blushed. Vegeta glanced over her form, concealed by her red dress, and she turned her back to him inviting him to undo the zipper…


	17. Passion

Author note: *fans face* woah is it hot in here or is it just me?

Warning, lemon!

Bulma lay on her side, her body seductively curved, propped up on her elbow, now only in her underwear with a confident smile on her face. "I think you deserve some kind of reward, Vegeta." She said slowly, softly. His eyebrows raised in shock before they furrowed, his voice deep and quiet "_Vulgar_." He wasn't sure exactly what she was insinuating, but her verbal acknowledgement of the progressing atmosphere filled Vegeta with awkwardness he couldn't bare. As he stared back at her, she was on the move, and he watched her with a suspicious quirked brow as she slipped down the bed slightly to his hips. She broke eye contact with him, and tugged at his shorts. He agreed to her request, lifting his rear slightly off the bed and allowing her to pull them down, his cheeks instantly flushing and his head tilting away to avert his eyes from his own arousal. His embarrassment amused her. She took him in her hand and closed her eyes, lightly skimming her lips along his shaft and letting her warm, wet breath envelope him. Vegeta tensed, his head still whilst he curiously gazed at her from the corner of his eye, shocked to find her mouth _there._

His scent was far more bearable post-shower when not riddled with dry sweat. She had grown more accustomed to his pungency as their intimate encounters had added up over the years, and now the smell was _almost_ arousing in itself. But she'd never had her nose this close to his groin before. The strong, musky smell of saiyan arousal was intense. Their irregular sex had always been black and white, mostly because Vegeta's lack of mutual receptiveness prevented any creative foldeling. She glanced up to find him awkwardly watching out of the corner of his eye, and she smiled to him before moving her hand gently down his shaft, pulling his skin back slightly, her mouth moving over his head...

This was not what Vegeta had expected.

He tried desperately to remain stoic, but in spite of being so very out of practice, Bulma was soon passionately enjoying herself as swirled her tongue around his now throbbing member. Vegeta sunk back into the pillows he was leaning against, his head falling backwards and his hands gripping the sheets beneath him, his eyes closed, mouth ever so slightly agape. The incredible sensation paralyzed him and his mind succumbed, falling vacant to the purely visceral experience so alien to him. To be free from his mind was euphoric in itself. He reached out for her subconsciously, his fingers weaving amongst her hair and holding the back of her head, tightly. Before long, Bulma found he was pulling her face down onto him, his hips beginning to curl forward, forcing himself deeper into her mouth. If it wasn't for the discomfort, she thought it was sexy to see the ever solemn and somewhat prude prince reduced to feral pleasures shed always suspected laid underneath. She pushed back against him before realising how stupid fighting against the arm strength of Vegeta truly was, resorting to slapping her palm on his thigh repeatedly.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes, glancing down and releasing his grip from her instantly, coming round from being lost in the intense pleasure. His cheeks flushed vibrant red, he could feel their warmth, fighting to retain an emotionless expression.

Bulma let out a soft sigh over a sweet chuckle, smiling up at Vegeta's contradictive expression and pulling herself up his body to lie atop him.

"Get carried away?" She winked, stopping a couple of inches from his face, but he just stared into her eyes with unintentional seductive mystery. She hadn't expected a response. Gently she touched his cheek with the back of her fingers, caressing his tired, deceptive face, wondering just how much was pent up behind. It had become increasingly apparent that under that blank facade, Vegeta was an emotional man struggling to cope with even the normalities of life. What had at one time seemed so out of character and terrifying had become something she almost looked forward to seeing. She didn't want to see him in pain, even if part of her knew it was deserved, but she did want to witness more of the complexities he so desperately tried to conceal. She couldn't help love him, even after constant moral reminders that his turmoil didn't equate an inner good.

"Well...?" He said, almost a whisper, interrupting her train of thought. His expression remaining the same, his eyes fixed painfully still on hers.

She smiled seductively, "well?" She parroted back knowingly, wanting him to verbally acknowledge his desires.

"Do not start what you have no intention of finishing, woman."

Surprised to find a response instead of a grumble, an excited and nervous shiver ran through her. She smiled, choosing to teasingly push her luck with more questions whilst the saiyan prince appeared receptive. "And, how would you like this to continue?"

His brows drew together tighter as he stared back at her delicate yet confident smile, growing impatient. His mind was a battlefield, trying to choose between stoic dismissiveness and, and... He suddenly grabbed her thin upper arms and his lip turned at the corners to form a smirk, his eyes closing. "Very well."

That terrifying smirk, however sexy, surprised her and she questioningly pulled back from his face. But before she had the chance to register what was about to happen, Vegeta rolled, pinning her beneath him. "Vegeta!" She squealed in shocked approval, lustfully returning his smirk, raising her forearms up to hold onto his muscular, powerful arms that were now pinning her down. He released one of his hands and she let his arm slip through her fingers, momentarily caressing each other's palms, his hand moving down between them to pull at her panties demandingly, Bulma wriggling to aid their removal. He lay his weight atop her, burying his face where her neck and shoulder met, breathing out a sigh longingly. She embraced his back, one hand moving up to his neck, into his matted black hair to twirl the irregular strands in her fingers, and the other down to the small of his back, where she accidently trailed over the scarred bump where his tail once was. She realised as he visibly shivered and froze, a deep, short rumble vibrating from his throat. She curiously continued to tickle the area with her fingers, unsure whether his response was positive or negative, his back arching to her touch, a moan escaping his lips, "S-stop that." He eventually managed to whimper defiantly, embarrassed by both the loss of his limb and the effect of the sensitive remnants.

"Why?" She questioned, chuckling into his ear, "You're clearly enjoying it.

Vegeta growled at her in attempted dispute, his body in agreement with her, his mouth open on her neck, his breath radiating out across her skin in pulses. She shivered, tightening her arm around his back, spreading her palm out across his skull and pulling him against her. His lips began to nip at her neck, his hips curling forward and rubbing himself against her exterior. He'd grown increasingly comfortable around her, but it was an overwhelming breakthrough to find him being this sensual and… romantic. Bulma took in a deep breath and bit her lip, raising and squeezing her thighs around his. It had been too long.

He entered her, his shoulders curling to encase her below him dominantly, kissing and nipping at her, a gasp escaping his lips that was cold against her now wet neck. He raised his head just enough to press their cheeks together, nuzzling, retracting his hips before pushing inwards once more, his thrusts slow and emotionally driven. She turned her face to kiss his cheek, holding his head in her hand, her other hand curving over his tight rear powering his melodic thrusts, and then back up to hold his scarred back tightly.

He instinctively reacted to her every gasp and moan with his movements, their bodies in perfect sync as she found herself writhing against his trusts. Their lips met, her moans stifled, their kiss occasionally broken by gasps as they hung quivering in front of each others faces. Vegeta returned his face to her neck, his trusting progressively intensifying, and she held him tighter still. Her breath quickening as she quivered under him, letting out a succession of fragile moans as she clenched him inside her. He gasped in response to her grip, before moaning into her neck, his thrusting becoming jagged as he bucked haphazardly with release. His verbal approval intensified her organism emotionally and she clung desperately to him, wrapping her legs over his as their movements came to an eventual stop, his heart pounding through his chest onto hers.

They remained quietly joined for several moments before Vegeta bravely raised his head to look at her in the eyes, his expression uncharacteristically gentle. She smiled up at him seductively, his eyes moving away briefly before they returned to hers, his cheeks reddened and a smile crept over his lips. Butterflies erupted in her chest towards his contented expression, her eyes welling with tears. Vegeta's brows drew together, his face returning to its more familiar seriousness. "What's wrong?" he asked, confused.

Bulma grabbed his face with her hand "Nothing! Everything is perfect." She smiled, but noticed his confusion mounting. "Just _overwhelmed_."

He had never seen her cry before. He'd never seen her express any intense emotions other than anger, really. In truth it was him who was the more emotional of the two. She was an objective, confident individual. In ways, everything Vegeta wished he was. He had always been a deep thinker, wrapped up in obsessive thoughts that drove him to despair. He too was overwhelmed, though it had the opposite effect on him. She was so calming to his mind. His smile returned. "I see."


	18. The Morning After

Author note: Hey everyone, sorry I've been slow getting this one out. I got a little stuck. Please review and let me know your thoughts. It means a lot, I love getting them and it helps me write. Thanks.

Trunks stretched, rubbing his eyes as he walked down the hall to his mothers lab, expecting her to be there. "Mom?" He called, walking around the empty echoing room, "MooooOOOoom?"

Bulma was awoken by a movement that wasn't her own. Werilly, she opened her eyes to an unfamiliar picture.

She raised her head up from its resting place against Vegeta's armpit, his arm supporting her neck and his hand on her side, cradling her. He let out a sigh, his head rolling away from her to flop on his opposing cheek.

She turned to look at the balcony, sunlight escaping through cracks in the curtain and dancing on the floor, before looking to the clock. 10:00 it blinked. She looked back to the surprisingly peaceful sleeping prince. He had never remained in the same bed through until morning before and she had never slept in his embrace. She smiled and bit her lip, "well I never..." She whispered to herself.

Vegeta's subconscious had taken him home, a familiar setting for his dreams. Though usually, they were horrific nightmares. For yearshe'd experienced his home as an adult, still under Freiza's reign, reliving the atrocities through adult eyes. But tonight he dreamt of an imaginary, peaceful Planet Vegeta, and she was there. His dreams had increasingly featured Bulma. Sometimes he'd drempt that he took over Planet Trade Organization, and Earth was next on his list. He'd had horrific nightmares where he had managed to kill not only Goku, but everyone she held dear, in front of her. He had even murdered her in his dreams... But tonight, he stood proudly as King, with _her_ by his side. She too dressed in traditional royal armour, her bright blue tail swishing seductively at her side... Admitting to himself the fact of her beauty was easier when she was one of his own. A smile crept over his lips to the fantasy.

She touched his face and his eyes opened slowly, his head turning to meet hers. She smiled sweetly yet seductively at him, but his brows furrowed slightly as he awoke to reality, squinting as the sunlight caught his eye.

"Good morning _my prince._ Having a nice dream?"

"Hn." He grunted, realising he was holding her and letting his hand flop on the bed, "I don't recall."

"So, no training this morning?" She then asked, referencing his presence in her bed past daybreak. He sat up, causing her to move off him, he too looking at the clock. "I overslept." He said blankly, his lip twitching. She smiled knowingly "unlike you" his gaze meeting her with impatience at her presumptions. "I'd like to remind you, _woman_" he began, patronisingly "of what happened yesterday." referencing the fact he was entitled to be tired. She closed her eyes, arching her shoulders back, clutching the sheets close to conceal her naked chest, "do you mean your heroic saving of the world, _or _the events in the evening?" She smirked, opening her eyes to Vegeta's intensely angry stare. After a few moments he turned to leave the bed, throwing the sheets back, but Bulma grabbed his arm. "Stay" she demanded, "you have all the time in the world to train."

He stopped, sat naked on the side of the bed, but didn't turn to face her. He searched himself as he always would for a reason to leave, but something had changed. There was no denying it anymore, he wanted to be in her company, even without the excuse of physical desire, even when no blood was rushing to his groin. He glanced to her hand on his arm out of the corner of his eye, before turning his head to meet her gentle gaze behind him...

Trunks walked into the kitchen to find his grandmother happily humming to herself. "Hey Grandma." He said gruffly, sitting down at the table, "do you know where mom is?"

"They're both still in bed, dear! Must have been a long day yesterday! You're up late too!" She replied, presenting the boy with juice.

"_They_?" Trunks replied, his father wasn't up training yet? It was unheard of.

Trunks knew better than to disturb his father, and so made his way to his mother's room to wake her. He tapped at her door, "moooom? Hey mooom!" He called, tapping again, but there was no reply, so he gently pushed open the door to peer inside, but she wasn't there, either

"I'll go fix coffee for us both!" Bulma said with a smile, sliding out the other side of the bed and prancing across to the room naked to the en suit. Vegeta watched her, letting out a sigh and looking away as she vanished inside. When she emerged she was concealed by a dressing gown, and she winked to him as she left the room, "I'll be right back, don't go running off! Okay?" Vegeta just glared with the same look he always would, but something told her he would stay put this time.

"Mom! Where were you! I've been looking _everywhere!"_ Her son's voice greeted her as she shut the door to Vegeta's room behind her, "H-hey honey! Oh, I was just in your father's room." She replied, as if it was nothing. Her son stared back confused, "huh, why?"

"Well, last night we had a lot to talk about, and I just fell asleep in there I guess!" She quickly changed the subject. "Long day yesterday wasn't it, huh Trunks!?" She walked on past him, ruffling his hair with a smile.

Bulma entered the kitchen to find her mother arranging cakes meticulously on a fancy stand. "Morning mother." Bulma yawned, stretching, filling the coffee machine up with fresh grounds. "Oh good morning dear! Look at these beautiful cakes! Don't they just look _scrumchous_!" Bulma nodded with a tired smile, and Trunks entered the kitchen. "Do you want Grandma to fix you some breakfast, Trunks? I'm sure she would!" Bulma asked, her mother turning to clasp her hands together excitedly "Oh absolutely! What would you like Trunks? Some cereal, or a cooked breakfast, toast?" Trunks sat at the table, "Just some toast please, Grandma." He watched his mother suspiciously as she made _two_ cups of coffee and left the room.

Bulma held out a cup of steaming coffee in front of the saiyan prince, who glanced at it, his nose wrinkling, before he looked to her face. "I made one for you, too." She offered, he quirking a brow. "I've never drunk that pungent intoxicant before, what makes you think I'm going to start now?" Bulma closed her eyes, sipping from her own mug. "Just try it! If you don't like it, then leave it!" Vegeta glared at her for a moment, then took the cup from her. She was pleasantly surprised by his receptiveness, enjoying the new, tamer saiyan's company. She sat down on the bed beside him, crossing her legs as he reluctantly took a sip, the warm liquid felt soothing against his dry throat. He placed the cup on the side of the table, still half full. "Well?" Bulma asked, smiling, "Hn, it's _okay.__"_ He shrugged back.

She clasped her own mug with both hands for warmth and held it close to her face, her beautiful, large blue eyes tiredly gazing through the steam at Vegeta, still sat naked on the bed leaning against the headboard, covers draped over his lap. She yawned, and Vegeta reluctantly followed, a blush flushing his cheeks as she chuckled at his automated response. She sat her coffee down beside his, and crawled alongside him, placing a hand on his bare chest. He watched her closely.

"You stayed." Bulma said calmly. Vegeta's eyes widened ever so slightly and his head abruptly turned away at her observation. He had made the conscious decision to stay in her company, and she knew it. "Thank you." She kissed his cheek slowly, pausing there for a second, feeling his warm reddened cheek on her lips. She smiled, pulling her head back, his eyes still fixed in the opposite direction. "Vegeta...?" She said his name questioningly; wanting his attention, his acknowledgement, though she knew it was too much to ask. His gaze moved to the bed, then to the corner of his eyes, greeting hers. "What's wrong?" She asked, this awkwardness unfamiliar to her. Vegeta was always either confident, running away from her or having sex with her, he was never _timid_. Vegeta simply didn't know what to do with himself, he didn't know how to _be_ in her company without purpose. He didn't know what to say, or do. "I'm fine" he sighed, defeated, in a gruff tone, leaning forward to rest on his forearms on his knees. She glanced over his bare, scarred back all the way to his rear and his most unusual, circular scar where his tail once was.

"I don't… Know what to do." He finally confided.

Bulma's gaze rose to the back of his head with curiosity painted across her face. They'd been here once before, back when Goku died. But Goku was alive now? "You're not going to stop training completely, are you?" She questioned inquisitively. Vegeta partially turned his head, gazing at her out of the corner of his eye, "Of course not. It's in my blood. I was born to fight." He snapped instantly. Bulma smiled, "Well then! Things will carry on as normal… Besides, haven't you a new goal to reach? That new super saiyan form?" She smiled behind her mug, stretching her legs out down the bed beside him. Vegeta's form physically sunk in response to her comments, his gaze moving away from hers and his head hanging down. "…I realised yesterday. It is impossible to catch up with Kakarot."

Silence. Only the faint sound of birds singing outside.

"When we fused, I could feel it. In the back of our soul. All the power he possessed. The gap between us was far greater than I imagined. Deluded. I know that now… When I fought him under Babidi's Magic, I was convinced that there was no conceivable way he could be stronger, but that _bastard_ was holding back the entire time. And when I witnessed it for myself, when I _felt_ it, _tasted_ it…" Vegeta closed his eyes. "Destiny reserved saiyan greatness for him, not I. Perhaps for the best. Perhaps such power simply cannot be attained by someone _like me_."

Bulma listened calmly as Vegeta continued, looking at her coffee. "Besting him had become my life. But now, now what?"

She smiled in understanding. "Well, you can start by finishing your coffee…" She said, picking the mug off the bedside table and reaching it out to his side. Vegeta turned his head to look at the mug in her hand. She understood. He didn't know how to live the life he had to live here on Earth, but only now had it become a problem, because _only now, _had he realised he wanted to learn. He stared at the mug for several moments, before taking it from her in his opposite hand taking another sip.


	19. Confessions

Author note: I just want to say thank you to those of you who've reviewed. I love reading them so much.

In response to SCeles, who's written two exceptionally meaningful reviews – I'm really proud that I've been able to throw some of those clichés to the wind and still keep you entertained! Thank you for your honesty and for enjoying the read. My logic was this – Not only does Vegeta spend most of his time sweating excessively, he's a different species, why would he smell nice? I imagine Bulma being fairly intolerant of bad smells (canon yo), especially natural, "animal" ones. And it's not until she'd increasingly spending time close with him that it becomes appealing, because that's just what happens in relationships of any kind – you start to tolerate and occasionally start to like things you initially detested. Same with his appearance. I don't think Vegeta is supposed to be attractive in a conventional sense, but the more time she spends with him, her perception changes. As for penis size, well, I don't imagine saiyans in general are particually well endowed. It just seems that it would be a burden to their way of life? But Vegeta is tiny in stature, so it seems unlikely to me that he'd be anything above average. It's funny, because personally, I think putting Bulma's interest in him down to something like his skills in the bedroom is depressing? I like the idea that she perhaps was shallow to a point but as she's grown and matured it's become unimportant, whilst Yamcha never changed, and that's what drove them apart? Vegeta is a challenge. It's not so much intelegence, but just that he's clearly broken, and I think being the dominant person Bulma is she thinks she can fix him. I think that's what drew her to him initially.

I think you're right about the European thing, actually. We're known for out "grittyness", for our love of the mundane, for social realism and dark themes.

Thank you for the reference to Lisalu's work. I shall have to check it out!

This next chapter is little more than conversation, but I'm hoping it provides a big fist full of Euro grittyness and a dusting of American confectioner sugar at the same time.

Thanks again, keep the reviews coming. I will happily answer questions.

"Vegeta, before you came to Earth, before surpassing Goku was a concern, what did you do with yourself back then? There must have been things you enjoyed doing. Pastimes?" She smiled, leaning slightly to the side to try and look at his face. Vegeta sharply turned his head away, closing his eyes. "Come on, Vegeta! There must have been something! Maybe there's something similar here on Earth."

Vegeta's brows drew tighter together. "I delighted in and looked forward to one thing – fighting. Winning. Ending the lives of others."

A chill ran through Bulma's spine as she realised her romanticized portrayal of Vegeta's mysterious depth was indeed just a delusion.

Moments of silence passed before Vegeta spoke again, "You knew this. Why ask. Why hurt yourself." Bulma's heart felt heavy, but if only she could feel the weight of his as it sunk shamefully into his gut. "I know." She began, "But I'm surprised that there truly was nothing else you enjoyed or looked forward to…"

Vegeta turned to to face her quickly, his entire torso spinning and his hand landing on the bed, "There was no time for games!" He spat angrily. "My days were spent training or purging planets and what little free time I _did_ have was spent _sleeping _and _eating_. That was the extent of my life. Freiza made sure to keep me occupied." His brows furrowed and his tone fell from anger to calm darkness. "And I _enjoyed_ it."

Bulma's expression was one of sadness, her voice taking on a shrill desperation. "You didn't know any better, how can you possibly think you _enjoyed _it?! Do you really believe that, Vegeta? Do you?"

"Yes!" He cut her off, sitting back up straight. "Because I miss it. I miss my old life."

"_Vegeta_…" There was a lump in her throat. "I think when yu– _someone, _is so accustomed to something, they become addicted, in a way? And it's easy to confuse that with enjoyment. That's what I think."

"What does it matter?" Vegeta defeatedly threw back. "It is of no relevance _why _I feel the way I do, only that I do. All that matters is what is. Presuming aids nothing."

Bulma picked up where his voice abruptly ended in an attempt to convince him, "…You enjoy food, you enjoy your training, you enjoy training _Trunks,_ you enjoy me – sex…"

Vegeta's cheeks flushed crimson out of her view and his embarrassment tingled the hair on the back of his neck. "Stop it."

"Why?"

In spite of asking her to stop, Vegeta couldn't help argue the more he thought about it. "You listed basic instincts. You might as well have included _breathing_."

He was right. Bulma sighed internally as her mind wondered curiosly into places it probably shouldn't for both their sanity, "…Do you fantasise about killing?" She asked, coldly.

Vegeta was silent.

She closed her eyes and gripped her mug tightly. "Do you fantasise about killing _me_?"

Vegeta remained silent.

She bit her lip, a sense of fearful anger overcoming her. "Last night," she opened her eyes bravely to look at the the back of his head, his dark form haloed by the light flowing in through the window in front of his form, casting a his shadow across her. "Is that what you were dreaming about?"

Vegeta's brow quirked, his ears twitched, "No!" He spat back abruptly. "No." He repeated, in calmer tone. His heart began to race and he took in a deep, staggered breath before he let it out as a sigh.

"But you have, in the past?" Bulma's questions continued.

"Not …_recently_." He said coldly.

The confirmation weighted her heart like a brick.

"…Bulma." Vegeta glanced over his shoulder. "I did not delight in such a thought. It sickens me." He turned away once more, "That much I am certain of." His head tilted down. "You are different to the rest, I told you this."

"Your nightmares?" She asked vaughly. "You'd wake up in a panic. You'd be gone by morning…"

Vegeta physically sunk to the realization that she'd noticed, "_Yes_."

"So what was your dream about last night?"

"You."

"If all you enjoy is murder and basic instincts, then I guess that only leaves one thing it could have been about…" She smiled, bravely.

"_Hmph,_ don't be so vulgar and presumptuous." Vegeta's head rose slightly.

"Well, then what?"

"My thoughts are _mine_. Not yours to own."

"I don't want to own them, I just want to know them. To know you. _Tell me._ What are you ashamed of? What could possibly be worse than you just addmiting that you've dreamt of _killing me_?"

Vegeta's eyes closed tightly to her words, the distressing thought painting pictures in his mind he'd rather not see, he let out a distressed sigh, remembering his nightmares as he clenched Bulma's throat watching her eyes glaze over... Admitting he'd thought of murdering her _was _easier, and only after her observation had been verbally announced had he realised how messed up that truly was.

"I told you. _You_. Nothing more or less. You. You stood beside me. That is all."

Bulma smiled, _stood beside him? _However unintentional it may have been, there was something desperately romantic about the concept of their unity. "What were we doing? Where were we?" She pressed.

"My home planet, some kind of ceremony." He said hurridly.

"What was I doing there?"

"You were a saiyan. You _belonged there_." He grunted. "We both belonged there."

Bulma's smile widened, she placed her coffee mug down on the bedside table, and she crawled forward inquisitively as goosebumps ran over her, "Was I your princess?" She chuckled playfully.

"My _queen_." Vegeta corrected sternly.

She was at his side, her gaze burning a hole in his reddened cheek. Vegeta took in a deep breath then raised his brow to glance at her without moving his head, meeting her stare. She was grinning at him seductively. He let out his breath through his nose audiably as blood rushed to his groin in response.

"Did I have a tail, then?" She asked playfully.

Vegeta's eyes widened and he turned away, his cheeks ever redder, "Yes." He remembering just how beautifully it complimented her form. The thought drove him wild.

She sat down by his side, parallel, facing the opposite direction to him and reached to his face, requesting him to turn it back to face her. He complied, and she drew closer. "I'm honoured, _Vegeta_." She purred his name, leaning in to kiss him, his eyes closing instinctively as a haggard breath escaped his parted lips before they joined hers. Her hand searched for a space to stedy herself, resting atop the sheets draped over his thigh. Her hand mindlessly slithered accross the soft sheet, his powerful, hard, muscular leg underneath. The sheet had tented from his arousal, she broke the kiss to glance down, Vegeta staring at her with rosey cheeks and parted, desperate lips. "It was just a dream. Not a reality." Vegeta reminded himself outloud. "You are not a saiyan."

"Forgive me, Vegeta, but… I'm curious." She began as her eyes met his again. "You were so young when your planet was destroyed," Vegeta knew exactly where this question was headed, he blinked slowly, looking down shamefully. "…did any females survive, long enough for you to, _you know_?"

"No." Vegeta replied without missing a beat.

"Any other speci-"

"No." He growled, looking back to her. "I never found another creature… Interesting." He looked over her unintentionally, looking away as he realised his gaze was wondering.

She smiled, stroking his cheek. "I think you're _interesting_ too, Vegeta." Every time she said his name in that alluring tone his heartbeat thumped in his groin. He was certain it was intentional. Her hand moved down his neck, over his firm chest. "You're incredibly hot, you know._ Handsome.._." She added.

Vegeta had never given his appearance a second thought. In fact, his entire body, his physical self, was of little concern to him. At times, he had hated his body for not being as capable as he so desperately wanted it to be. Other time's, he'd been apathetic about it to the point of unintended suicides. But hearing that gorgeous, alluring female ackwoledge his appearance sent warmth of pride through him. He realised that he cared what she thought of him. He felt shame when he upset her; I felt joy when he made her happy. His gaze returned to hers, his mysterious dark eyes seemingly hiding something from her. She knew she was beautiful, and she knew full well Vegeta agreed. She didn't need to be a saiyan.

She took the mug from his hands and placed it beside her own, shooting him a seductive smile.

Bulma let her dressing gown fall off her shoulder as she lounged over his lap and he watched her inquisitively. "You like to keep reminding yourself that I'm not a saiyan. Yet you've been quite happy to degrade yourself with me numerous times. And now you're fantasizing about me being a saiyan? Vegeta…" She smiled. "What is it you find so _interesting_? Hm?"

Vegeta's eyes widened and his cheeks felt hot with blood as he looked down at her, her hand on on the tense muscles that held his shoulder and neck together, her finger gently stroking him near his collarbone.

Vegeta's mind began to list… _Your confidence, your beauty, your body, your passion, your intelegence, your power in this world, you came to me, you accept me, you__'__re here with me__… __You__'__re__…_"You are my mate." He said calmly, though as soon as he realised what he'd said his face returned to a state of shock. "I mean-!" He was flustered.

"Your _mate_?" Bulma questioned, smiling.

"No!" Vegeta replied. "It's just, you are, the mother of my son."

"Ahh, and that makes me your _mate_, is that what you mean? Is that how it was back home?" She smiled.

"Yes... I mean, no." Vegeta growled at her, trying to compose himself. "You're as close to a _mate_ as it is possible for me to find, now that there are no _saiyan_ women. Our regular encounters, offspring…"

"Is that your way of saying '_I love you__'_?" She interrupted with a smile.

Vegeta's mouth hung open from where she had cut him off, his brow drew together slightly, glaring at her for a moment before looking away. She kissed his cheek gently, her lips remained on his skin, her nose brushed against him, she smiled contently.


End file.
